


We’re Linked, You and I (Consolation Prize)

by blumvale (sailorpipn)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, BAMF Stiles, F/M, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Minor Character Death, Mpreg, Multi, Non-Graphic Violence, Polyamory, Teacher Derek, Teen Wolf Big Bang
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-01
Updated: 2013-12-01
Packaged: 2018-01-03 04:02:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sailorpipn/pseuds/blumvale
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU set after season 3A - Stiles and the gang live in a world where everyone’s soul mate’s name is written on their body. Everyone grows up having an idea of whom he or she belongs with. But what happens to the people who have no one, who have lost that special someone, or who were born with no names at all?</p><p>With a new threat looming overhead, Stiles has to deal with the darkness inside of him, all the while living with the loss of his soul mate. He and the others have to deal with the idea of the ‘soul mate’, that special person made just for you. How do you move on when that person is taken from you and how do you move on when that person doesn’t want you?</p><p>When Derek comes back to town, he and Stiles grow closer. Maybe they still have a choice in who they are meant to be with. Maybe destiny realized they got it wrong the first time around and led them to each other as penance for the mistake.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> there is some violence, and ritualistic murder but it is non-descriptive. but if that's a trigger, proceed with caution.
> 
> this story has slash, het, and polymory relationships. I also make no claims of knowing magic spells or ingredients used. I did the tiniest amount of research and picked what sounded good. So, I hope I don’t offend anyone.
> 
> I had two amazing betas! darkravenwrote and damnitgreenberg, who I would have been lost without! Any remaining errors are all mine!
> 
> and make sure you check out the fanmix! It’s awesome!! the link at at the bottom as an inspired work :)
> 
> I do not make any profit off of this story.

On the right side of his chest, Stiles had the names David and Claudia laid out in neat cursive. His father’s name was the same color of his sheriffs’ badge, while his mother’s was once a bright aqua, her favorite color, representing her calming presence in the Stilinski house. Over time it faded and was barely legible anymore. The color started to wash out almost as soon as she took her last breath in the hospital; the cancer had just been too much for her. She had fought for ages, but at eight years old, Stiles lost his mother and the link on his body broke.

Written in burgundy, for his strength, the name ‘Scott’ was on the curve of Stiles’ left foot. This meant he and Scott would walk far together; best friends with miles to go ahead of them. ‘Lydia,’ providing competition, was written on Stiles’ right forearm in a hue that almost matched her hair. Stiles knew it was silly to have a crush on her; her name wasn’t near his heart so he was certain it’d never become anything. But she was the smartest girl in the whole school, giving Stiles a run for his money at Valedictorian, and he admired that. It didn’t hurt that she was lovely, even if her personality wasn’t always. But he’d seen her name on Jackson’s chest and knew whom she was meant to be with.

Jackson, for all the times he’d been a jerk, still had a place in Stiles’ life. His name was tiny, scrawled on Stiles’ shoulder blade in dark orange; his ambition and confidence obvious before neither boy knew what the words meant. They had stopped being friends in grade school when Jackson realized what popularity could mean for him. The color of his name became clear when he, trying too hard, believed Stiles would hold him back and ended their play dates and sleepovers. Stiles and Scott would have been more torn up over it if they hadn’t had each other. Maybe someday the lettering would come to mean more to Stiles, but he wasn’t holding his breath. He knew Jackson’s name wouldn’t be there if there weren’t some bond between them, so he waited for the jock to come crawling back.

There were other names on his body, some of people whom he would eventually be friends with but hadn’t met yet. It pleased Stiles to know there was a nice amount of people who were going to be important to him.

Stiles had other family members scattered around his body. When he was a baby, all four of his grandparents had been alive. His paternal grandparents were written on the right side of his ribcage, his maternal grandparents on the left. When he was three, both his grandmothers’ names faded while Stiles was sleeping, just like the two women who never woke from their dreams. Grandpop Stilinski was still alive, while his grandson’s other grandfather passed away a year after his wife, as he couldn’t bear to continue without her. Stiles’ aunt Louise, who he’d never met (she lived on the east coast for work) but spoke to on the holidays, was written on his right hip.

On the left of Stiles’ chest, written in pink, was the name ‘August’. The name appeared on Stiles’ chest when he was a little less than two years old. His parents, so happy that their son’s soul mate had finally been born, had taken numerous pictures to document the occasion. When she’d been alive, Claudia liked to tell Stiles about when the name had first appeared.

Stiles had been in the bathtub and Claudia had thought she’d rubbed his skin too hard or that the water was a tad too hot. She’d gently touched Stiles’ skin, to sooth it, when she realized letters were becoming clear. Shocked, she’d yelled for her husband, whisking the squirming toddler out of the tub, suds and all. She trailed water and soap all through the house until she found David in his office where she proudly showed off her son’s mark. After that, whenever she wanted to calm her son, she’d hold him close and whisper, “There’s someone out there made just for you. Someone who’s going to think the sun shines out your ass.” (David always rolled his eyes when he heard his wife’s comment. But he also always kissed her forehead afterward.)

There wasn’t an August in Beacon Hills or any of the neighboring towns; David used his Sheriff connections to check it out. Stiles was at his dad’s office all the time, to the amusement and sometimes annoyance of David’s coworkers. So, everyone turned a blind eye when David looked for Stiles’ future partner.

“You’ll get to meet them when you go to college,” David reasoned, when Stiles complained about missing them. “Plenty of people don’t meet their soul mates until they’re older.” Stiles pouted, jealous that he didn’t get to know his special someone when Emily and Danica, two girls in his class, were together. “Don’t worry, son. They’re out there waiting for you,” David assured, time and time again.

Stiles never got the chance to meet August.

He was twelve and on his way to lunch in the school cafeteria when his chest started to burn. It wasn’t like the lingering ache that had accompanied him until his mother’s death. And he knew it wasn’t a panic attack; he’d had plenty of those over the last few years. His skin felt tight and hot like he was on fire. Stiles ran to the boy’s bathroom and threw off his shirt. Turning the tap on, he wet paper towels and pressed them to his overheated body. When Scott found him half an hour later, Stiles was sitting on the floor with tears rolling down his flushed cheeks and snot bubbling out of his nose. When he had thrown the towels out, his skin finally cooled, he’d notice the familiar pink letters, the ones he’d run his fingers over countless times, had paled to almost nothing.

The person he was supposed to have a future with was gone.

It took more than a few minutes, but Scott managed to get Stiles off the floor. “Come on, bro; it’s the boy’s bathroom, you really wanna sit in here?” Once up, Scott led Stiles to the nurses office, where his dad was called. David immediately ducked out of work to pick his son up and take him home.

“It’s ok, son,” he said over and over while Stiles cried into his pillow. “You’re going to find someone wonderful.”

“But not someone who thinks the sun shines out my ass.” Stiles parroted back the words his mother used to say.

Unsure of how to respond, David ran his hand over Stiles’ short buzz cut. Finally after his son had cried himself to sleep, David murmured, “You’ll find someone better.”

  


\--tw--

 

When Derek was sixteen, he met his soul mate.  


He was still in a self-induced haze from the death of Paige. Killing her weighed on his heart everyday. Even though his mother had tried to understand what had happened between them - had told him his blue eyes were still beautiful - Derek had taken an innocent life; he wasn’t sure he’d ever be able to move on from that. Even though he and Paige hadn’t been soul mates, they’d meant something to each other, loved each other. There had been no reason to want her to be a werewolf and yet…

Going back to school was difficult. Everywhere he looked, he saw Paige or heard her cello music. He ached constantly, which was one of the reasons he fell so easily when The Someone Meant For Him strolled into his life.

Derek’s soul mate was confident, beautiful, and clever. She came into town as a substitute teacher and it wasn’t until after their sixth class together that Derek had an inkling that they were made for each other. After all, Her name was fairly common.

He hadn’t meant to eavesdrop, but, with werewolf hearing, sometimes he picked up things not meant for his ears. (Laura never heard anything she wasn’t supposed to, or at least she never admitted to it. Laura was perfect and thinking about how easily she handled every part of her wolf made Derek grit his teeth. At least Cora was constantly caught listening in when she wasn’t supposed to; he wasn’t the only problem child.) Classes were in session, but Derek had a free period and was on his way to the toilet when he heard Her. She was sitting on her desk, cell phone in hand.  


“There are three Dereks in this town, Dad.” The sixteen-year-old’s heart skipped a beat. He didn’t try to listen to the voice of the person on the phone, too focused on the woman nearby. “Yeah, yeah, Dad.” Derek thought his teacher sounded exasperated when She continued. “Two of them are too old. They can’t be my soul mate but the third… he’s one of my students, Dad.” Derek’s heart jumped into his throat. Slowly, he backed away from the classroom. He wanted to hear more, but at the same time he wasn’t sure.

His soul mate, the person Laura and Peter teased him about, was just in the next room. Part of him wanted to run home and tell his parents. He paused when he knocked into the lockers in the hall, locks digging awkwardly into his back. “I looked at his file… his birthday’s the right day…”  


Derek’s breath caught in his throat. How could his soul mate show up when he hated himself so much? How could she even look at him when he was a murderer? ‘If only She’d come into town at the beginning of the school year,’ Derek thought to himself. ‘Then maybe Paige would still be alive.’ But maybe… maybe She’d be able to look past his mistakes and still love him… that was the point of a soul mate, right? She would forgive him, love him unconditionally… That’s how the movies and all the love stories made it seem, not that Derek watched those sappy things… unless Laura made him.

Steeling himself, Derek forced himself to the classroom door. Knocking his knuckles against the glass window, he got his soul mate’s attention. “Gotta go, Dad,” She said, flipping her phone closed. She smiled at Derek and the boy hoped he never got used to the clenching of his chest.

Shyly, opening the door, Derek greeted, “Um, hi Miss Argent…”

Derek wasn’t even seventeen when his soul mate burned down his home and murdered most of his family.

At eighteen, Derek had Laura burn a tattoo onto his back to wipe out the neat script of those stolen from him. His mother’s name, father’s, siblings all marked out, forever hidden from view. Laura hated covering her own name but, when Derek was twenty-three, he figured it was a good thing he’d insisted she had.

And at twenty-four, he was more than relieved to see Kate’s name disappear from his skin.

 

\---tw---

 

Peter was a patient man. He had to be when he was born a Beta who craved the power that came with being Alpha. While he’d been somewhat content to follow his sister, he had half formed plans of what he would do if he ever came to have red eyes. While he loved the Hale house and the lands that came with it, the lands that had been part of his pack for several generations, he wanted to expand the territory. He wanted to become an Alpha that other packs feared as well as respected.

Talia commanded respect… But no one feared her, not really. She was fair, strong, and capable of turning into a wolf, a rare trait among their kind. But to Peter, she was still a woman. Women could only do so much. He should have been born first. Or at least been born an Alpha in his own right. It wasn’t unheard of - two Alpha pups born into a family - though it was rarer than turning into a wolf. But it could have happened and then Peter knew he could have just gone off. His father would have given him some money. He could have found a new territory and created his own pack, his own family. He could have been something, other than a Beta, other than Uncle Peter.

The fire that killed most of his family took Peter by surprise. He’d seen Kate Argent in passing but at the time didn’t know she was a hunter, let alone an Argent. If he’d known who she was, he would have watched her closely and figured out her plan, long before the embers of the Hale house had cooled with half his face disfigured and his mind trapped.

It was good that Peter was patient. He was forced to wait several years before he could exact his revenge. Even if, in the chaos, he did manage to kill Laura, he was successful in taking the Argents down a peg or two. He’d loved his niece but that had been a beneficial accident, one he barely regretted. And then he was forced to wait all over again when his favorite nephew slashed his throat from ear to ear. Using Lydia had taken a lot of energy, but he was finally back to full strength when he killed Jennifer, the Darach. True, he was still a Beta, but so was Derek. And Scott, while being a ‘True Alpha,’ lacked the experience to really take Peter on. Last time had been a fluke. This time would be different. He would become The Alpha again, reclaim the Hale legacy and create the strongest pack the world had ever seen.

  


\--tw--

 

Rubbing his shoulder where Boyd and Erica’s names used to be, Stiles frowned. He couldn’t believe they’d been gone three months. He barely remembered the funerals, even though they weren’t too long ago. He hadn’t been invited to either, as neither Mrs. Reyes nor Mrs. Boyd knew of his existence, but some other students had gone so he’d been unnoticed by the masses.  


Part of Stiles wondered who’d had it better, he or Boyd. Stiles was completely startled by the loss of his soul mate, the loss of the grand dream that was never realized. He lost someone whom he’d never met. But Boyd and Erica, they had found each other, becoming werewolves. They hadn’t been on the same side of the misfits scale and had probably passed each other a million times not realizing their soul mate was so close. Aside from having their names printed on the others body, the bite cemented their relationship. They went to hell and back together, first with Gerard and then with the Alpha Pack. It was unfortunate that their second trip wasn’t so lucky. And so Stiles wondered who had it easier, he who never knew his soul mate or Boyd who had to watch his die.

When he heard the front door to his house slam closed, Stiles got up from his desk chair, stretched, and headed downstairs. “Dad?” he called and he walked down the stairs.

“Yeah?” David didn’t bother to yell as Stiles jumped the last few steps and landed nearby.

“What are you doing home so early?” His father usually worked late on Wednesdays so the Sheriff’s early arrival didn’t make any sense.

“What? A father can’t come home to spend some quality time with his son?” David put a carry out box, which Stiles hadn’t immediately noticed, down on the kitchen table. The sides of the box were greasy looking and Stiles frowned, knowing whatever his dad had brought home wasn’t healthy. “I arranged with Rivers to have dinner off tonight. I’ll head back in around eight-thirty to relieve him.”

“Yeah, but why…?” Stiles’ trailed off, remembering the date. He had the best father ever - a father who didn’t care about the fat clogging up his heart, but still. On the anniversary of Claudia’s death, Stiles and his dad would visit her grave, bringing her flowers and updating her with town gossip. Then they’d go home and have dinner, gorging themselves on all of her favorite foods. In all honesty, it made the rest of the year, where they rarely spoke about her, even more awkward.

On August’s anniversary… they’d never done anything before, didn’t try to make it a special day. But, if Stiles really thought about it, his father always made a point of spending time with him that day.

Knocking his father’s shoulder with his own, Stiles said, “You didn’t need to leave work, dad. I’m a big boy; I can be alone tonight.”

Laying out the Chinese food while ignoring his son’s continued frown at the sight of all the salt and carbs, David said, “Well maybe I needed a break. I happen to work very hard. Did you think of that, huh?”

Stiles snorted and grabbed some plates and silverware. “Right. Well, then put your feet up and relax. Enjoy your Chinese, old man. Tonight moo goo gai pan, tomorrow, salad for lunch and veggie burgers for dinner.” David rolled his eyes but didn’t fight Stiles’ point.

Later that night, long after Stiles had gone to bed, David returned home from work. Leaning on the door frame to Stiles’ room, he put his hand on his chest, over where his wife’s name used to be vibrant and beautiful, like she was. He stood there for a long moment, listening to Stiles’ soft snores, grinning.

Stiles always managed to fall asleep in the most uncomfortable looking positions. Tonight, one foot was almost touching the floor while the other was hooked over his headboard. Stiles’ blanket was burritoed around his middle, leaving his arms and chest exposed. He had his pillow underneath his hips and a textbook under his head. David had no idea how Stiles had developed this unique ability, but he’d always had it. It made him remember when Stiles fell asleep at the kitchen table, one hand in his bowl of cheerios, kneeling on the ground because he’s slipped from his chair.

When David felt like he might fall asleep standing up, he took a step back into the hall. Grabbing the doorknob, he slowly pulled the door closed. “You’re going to find someone wonderful,” he said softly, just before the door shut with a click.

 

The following Monday, Stiles tried to casually stroll into school. He was running a few minutes behind and had just enough time to get to his locker and to class if nothing got in his way. Making his way past the principal’s office, he cursed to himself again. His poor baby, Roscoe, just wasn’t back up to speed after the accident; he was still sure said accident had somehow been caused by the Darach and hated her even more for hurting his precious Jeep. Caught up in thinking about the cost of having Roscoe looked at by the mechanic again, Stiles didn’t notice the person coming out of the principal’s office until he’d smack right into them.

Stumbling back, hands out in front of his, Stiles stuttered, “Sorry, sorry.” When he looked up to see who he’d hit, Stiles’ heart clenched and he let out a pained sound. “You- you’re…” he trailed off. Composing himself, he asked, “Where’s Cora? You getting her classes straightened out after your impromptu vacation?”

Shaking his head, Derek said, “She decided to stay with a pack in New York.” Somehow, Stiles thought Derek looked calmer than he had in a long time. He seemed relaxed as he exited the principal’s office, less scowly, even if he did look sad at the mention of Cora. “Laura and I knew them when we were living out there. She said she was done with Beacon Hills for good this time. But she’ll be safe there; they’re good people.”

“Aw, man.” Stiles leaned against the lockers, one hand on his backpack and his other in his pocket. “That stinks. But it’s cool that you’re here. And New York, that must have been nice, right?”

Without giving a real answer, Derek nodded and shrugged his shoulders. Turning his head, he looked up and down the hall. Before he could say anything else, Principal Beck came into the hall and put a hand on Derek’s shoulder. “Have a good first day, Mr. Hale.”

“Yes, sir. Thank you, sir,” Derek responded to Beck’s back as the older man headed towards the cafeteria.

“First day?” Stiles asked, eyebrows furrowed. “Mr. Hale?”

Derek shrugged again before saying, “I’m taking over for one of the teachers, extended maternity leave.”

“Seriously, dude?” Stiles took a step back, surprised. Cocking his head to the side, he looked at Derek carefully. He took in Derek’s lack of leather coat and his pressed pants. Derek shifted uncomfortably when Stiles’ gaze lingered on his chest, staring at his tie. Suddenly Stiles seemed annoyed. “This? _This_ is how you tell us you’re back? I have to run into you at school?” He didn’t hesitate to punch Derek’s arm, even though he knew it would be worse for him in the long run. Indeed, rubbing his abused knuckles, Stiles glared at the former Alpha who hadn’t flinched in the slightest at the touch.

“One.” Derek raised an almost amused eyebrow. “Don’t call me dude. We’re in school, call me Mr. Hale. And two, I called Scott last night. I told him I was back and taking this job. It’s not my fault he didn’t contact you. And three?” Derek looked at his uninjured arm and back to Stiles who was still nursing his hand. “Don’t hit your teachers. You could be suspended or expelled. Do you really want to explain that one to the Sheriff?”

“Yeah, well, nice of the jackass to fill me in on that fine detail.” Stiles sighed, focused on the lack of messages from Scott about Derek and ran his hands through his hair. It was getting long, he realized. He was going to have to get a trim soon; maybe he’d return to his buzz cut. He kind of missed his super short hair; longer hair was more maintenance. Squaring his shoulders, Stiles continued, “Well I’m glad you’re back. I missed you, dude.” Derek held up a finger and Stiles quickly backpedaled. “Yeah, got it. Don’t call you dude when we’re at school.”

“Don’t call me dude ever, Mr. Stilinski,” Derek corrected. In response, Stiles rolled his eyes.

Backing away, Stiles looked down the hall. Most of the doors were closed with only a handful of lingering students remaining. “Well unless you want me to be late for history, Mr. Hale, I best be on my way.”

Nodding once, Derek held his arm out, gesturing for Stiles to go ahead. He had a small smirk on his face that Stiles didn’t have the time to categorize. Besides, he was three months out of practice. Vowing to study up on Hale body language when he got home, Stiles strode into his classroom. He had just managed to get to the seat Scott had saved for him when the bell rang overhead.

“Dude, how could you not tell me Derek-“

Scott coughed loudly and less than discreetly pointed towards the front of the room. Slowly Stiles straightened in his chair to face forward. “Oh you have got to be kidding me,” he groaned. He didn’t realize how loud he was until every eye in the room was on him.

Crossing his arms in front of his desk, Derek, or Mr. Hale, stared at Stiles. “Something to say, Mr. Stilinski?”

“Uh-“ Stiles stuttered. Desperately, he looked at Scott who wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Uh… no… no problem back here, Mr. Hale.” He shook a pointer finger Derek’s way and made a clicking sound with his mouth.

Slowly, Mr. Hale broke out into a grin. Stiles felt his jaw drop, remembering the time Derek used the same smile on Deputy Graeme. Damn, Stiles really missed Tara. “Hmm… I think perhaps you and Mr. McCall shouldn’t sit next to each other.” That statement got everyone’s eyes frontward, shocked.

“I’m sorry, what?” Stiles asked, planting his feet firmly on the ground. He was not going to move.

“I think you heard me, Mr. Stilinski. Come up here.” Derek pointed to the student in front of him. “What’s your name?”

“I’m Greenberg, Mr. Hale.”

“Fantastic.” Mr. Hale smiled again. “Please pick up your things and switch seats with Mr. Stilinski.”

“But uh-“ Greenberg stammered. “This is-“

“Personally, sir,” Stiles started, not grabbing his things like Derek wanted him to do. “I don’t really think that’s a good idea. I like my seat back here just fine.”

“I didn’t ask you, Mr. Stilinski, or you, Mr. Greenberg. Let’s go boys.” Derek leaned back against his desk, long legs stretched out in front of him.

Groaning, Greenberg shoved his books and things into his backpack. He looked at his chair desperately when he stood and made his way to the back of the classroom. Shifting from one foot to the other, he stood next to Stiles who still hadn’t moved. “Uh-“ he said nervously before putting his backpack down next to Stiles’.

“It’s this or detention, Mr. Stilinski,” Derek declared almost gleefully. Stiles didn’t think he’d ever seen the werewolf so happy.

“Son of a- pain in my-“ Stiles muttered under his breath, knowing full well Derek could hear him. Grabbing his backpack, he made a face, gave Scott a little salute, and went to his seat in the front.

Mr. Hale gave Stiles enough time to get his binder and pen out before saying, “Mrs. Barettey is on extended maternity leave. I will be her permanent substitute for the rest of the year.”

“And since when are you qualified to teach US history?” Stiles questioned, glaring up at _Mr. Hale_ from his seat. No one in the classroom seemed surprised by Stiles’ question or attitude. It wasn’t the first time his mouth had gotten him in trouble.

“I have a Bachelors Degree in History Education. And I am finishing my Masters Degree.” Derek crossed his arms in front of his chest. “That’s how I’m qualified, Mr. Stilinski.” With hard eyes, he looked around the classroom. “Any other questions?” When no one made even a peep, Mr. Hale turned his back on Stiles to write the day’s agenda on the board.

  


\--tw--

 

Derek couldn’t believe his luck, a long term teaching position had opened up in Beacon Hills. He hadn’t been planning on coming back to California as he and Cora were living in the same two-bedroom apartment that had once been his and Laura’s. Laura, who had been planning on returning to New York, had paid more than a year’s worth of rent when she’d left for her little trip. So, everything had been waiting for Cora and him when they arrived. It hadn’t been easy for Derek, entering the apartment. Even after so many months, everything smelled like Laura. Cora had whined too, upon entering. She’d lived alone for so many years, being assaulted like that made her more than irritable until they got most of the Laura’s stuff cleaned out and donated or put into storage.

The McNally pack were good people. They welcomed Derek back and took Cora in without question. They’d heard rumors that Derek had become an Alpha but, with his blue eyes as evidence to the contrary, they didn’t harp on it much. And Cora, thankfully, didn’t give anything away.

The holidays passed quietly for Derek and Cora. There was no tree; no decorations adorned the apartment. They went to the McNally holiday party but only because they didn’t want to offend the pack. And Cora stayed several hours longer than Derek did. Within a few days of their arrival, Cora had hit it off with one of the McNally Betas. He wasn’t her soul mate, but he was a good person for the wait. When Cora didn’t come home after the party, Derek tried not to worry; considering he’d spent so many years not knowing she was even alive, not worrying was pretty easy. He had no problem going to bed and just listening to the sounds of New York.

He hated them. The noise drove him crazy, all the honking and cursing and late night drunks who couldn’t hold their liquor. After being back in Beacon Hills for so long, he’d acclimatized to the quiet. Even when he was at his loft, where traffic should have been the heaviest, Beacon Hills was still a small town with very little traffic. The only time things got really loud was if there was an accident and people were screaming at each other and luckily that didn’t happen often.

Being back in New York, Derek realized how much he missed the quiet, close-knit community he’d abandoned. There was a certain appeal, especially as a werewolf, to living in a big city where no one knew your name or kept an eye out for you. Big cities gave you more freedom, the security of being unknown. But Derek had lived in Beacon Hills for years, his family generations longer, without comment…

When the job opening came up, Derek applied for it in a bit of a daze. He knew they’d never take him. Even though there’d been no actual charges, the people of Beacon Hills knew he’d been brought in for questioning more than once in the last year. He knew he had a much better shot at getting a job in New York. He could look for a city school; they always needed more people. He could teach history, maybe get a coaching position. It had been years since he’d picked up a basketball, but maybe coaching would be fun…

Derek held his breath for almost a minute when the email from Principal Beck arrived in his mailbox. They’d spoken over the phone for an interview, but when they’d hung up, Derek had been certain that everything went poorly. (Cora didn’t even know about the interview. Derek hadn’t wanted her to tease him, or worse, support him when it fell through.) But after he started breathing again and read the entire email twice, Derek called her into their tiny living room and asked her how she felt about returning to Beacon Hills.

And three weeks later, they’d cleaned out the apartment. They got a nice portion of the extra rent given back to them; Derek gave it to Cora so she’d have some spending money. They moved the few things Cora had accumulated into the McNally house in Westchester and shoved Derek’s things into his car. It had been expensive keeping his car in the city but, once it was full, he was relieved he’d kept up with the expense. He still missed the Camaro but figured what he had now was more suitable to his needs.

When he arrived at the loft in Beacon Hills, the first person Derek called was Cora. He could hear the relief in her voice when he told her he’d arrived just fine. After promising several times to actually get the internet set up in the loft and to email her weekly, they hung up and Derek called Scott. It was protocol after all, to tell the territory’s Alpha of his arrival.

Scott took his return in stride, like he’d been expecting it from the moment Derek left. Scott also didn’t sound surprised by Cora’s refusal. When they finally hung up, with the agreement that Derek would attend all pack meetings for as long as he wanted to stay in Beacon Hills, Derek unpacked his things and got his lesson plans together. Both Principal Beck and Mrs. Barettey had emailed him ideas and notes to make his transition easier. Even though it had been ages since he had taught students, Derek felt ready for the challenge.

He just hoped he didn’t have Stiles in any of his classes.

  


\--tw--

 

“Ugh! He’s such a jackass!” Stiles complained once he and Scott were ‘safe’ in the hall after class. Scott just rolled his eyes before gazing down the hallway where Allison and Isaac were chatting with each other. “Come on dude.” Stiles pulled on Scott’s arm. He hated the hurt look Scott always got when his soul mate talked to Isaac instead of him. “Let’s just go to our next class."  


He never said anything to Scott, but Stiles really felt for Isaac. Whereas Stiles had lost his soul mate, Isaac was one of the few people around the world who’d been born with no names on his body. Isaac was a medical mystery, with no noticeable links to anyone, not his family, nor his friends. The tests his family had paid for when he was born had hurt them financially and that had led to his older brother’s joining the military and subsequent death.

Those who were close to him, or were meant to be in his life, had Isaac’s name on their bodies. But, Isaac was a blank canvas. And, Stiles knew first hand that Allison was wonderful. While he’d never had a crush on her, she was hard not to like. It didn’t surprise Stiles at all that Isaac was drawn to her.

“Yeah, yeah,” Scott agreed, letting Stiles take the lead, not really paying attention. He kept his eyes on his ex and his friend as they walked in the opposite direction.

“You’re gonna get a crick in your neck, staring like that,” Stiles teased, giving Scott’s arm a squeeze. He tried to keep his tone light so Scott didn’t feel worse.

“Yeah,” Scott said again. Turning to Stiles, he gave him a tight smile. “It was great of you to sass Derek all through class. It’ll make working with him so much easier.”

“Sass?” Laughing, Stiles opened the door to the classroom. “All the words in the English language and you’re gonna go with sass? I thought you were all up on PSAT prep.”

“Shut up, Stiles.”

 

When the school day and lacrosse practice were finally over, Stiles left a message on his father’s voicemail and headed over to Derek’s loft. Instead of just barging in like he had so many times before, Stiles banged on the door several times to get Derek’s attention. He knew Derek was home since he’d parked next to Derek’s car in the lot.

“What do you want, Stiles?” Derek sounded exasperated after he slid the door open a crack.

“Am I not allowed to come over anymore, now that you’re a teacher?”

“Well it could be looked down upon.” Derek stood in the open space he’d created, not giving Stiles enough room to squeeze by. “And you didn’t come over all the much before, anyway. What do you want?” he asked again.

Shrugging his backpack off his shoulders, Stiles tossed it over Derek’s head and into the loft. “I want to hear about New York.” When Derek still didn’t move, Stiles made a point of staring and pointing at his bag.

Still not moving away, Derek asked, “And what if I just shut the door and keep it?”

“Then you would be impeding my education,” Stiles reasoned back, smile on his face. “And what kind of educator would you be then, hmm?”

Sighing, Derek stepped back a half step. Immediately, Stiles moved in to slide past him, knocking Derek’s chest with his elbows. Grabbing the strap to his pack, he tossed it onto the couch and sat down. “So?”

Ignoring the human, Derek moved into his kitchen and got himself a glass of water. When Derek sat down on the chair near the couch, Stiles leaned over and plucked the glass straight out of his hand. After draining half the glass, he handed it back over with a, “Thanks, man.” Frowning, Derek put the glass down on the floor. “So,” Stiles started. “How was New York? I’ve never been, but I’ve heard great things. Although, from the amount of crime shows that are set in The Big Apple, I’m shocked anyone lives there. Are there shootings like every day?” When Derek didn’t answer, Stiles rolled his eyes and took his books out of his bag.

Giving the human a pointed look, Derek finally asked, “What are you doing here, Stiles?”

“I’m studying. See, I have this new history teacher who’s a real hard ass and he gave me a shit ton of homework.” Stiles put the cap to his pen between his lips and smiled around it at Derek. “And as I currently have an A average in the class, I don’t want my grades to slip. If I managed to keep my grades up with all the werewolves, banshees, and darachs running around, all while running mile after mile for Coach, then I can keep them up now.”

“I think you’ll be fine.” Derek shifted on his chair to get comfortable. “I saw Barettey’s notes on all her classes; she wrote you’re doing fine. She also seemed to have a soft spot for Scott.”

“Please,” Stiles laughed. “All the teachers love Scott. Except for Harris. But then he never seemed to like anyone.” Stiles wondered if Harris’ body would ever be found. “All the teachers look into his big brown eyes and are charmed. And since Scott is normally a pretty good student, they all love him. He can do no wrong. Just you wait, sourwolf. One day you’re going to ask him about George Washington or something and he’s gonna smile your way and give you the answer. You’re gonna be floored.”

“I sincerely doubt that happening.” Derek crossed his arms over his chest. For about half an hour, he watched Stiles work. He had his own lessons to get to but couldn’t be bothered to get up from his chair.

“Hey, uh- can I have the rest of your water?” Stiles asked after he shut his history textbook and shoved it back into his bag. Grudgingly, Derek handed over the glass. “Thanks.” Stiles gave Derek a small smile. “Must be uh- must be hard to be here without Cora. You just got her back and then…” Stiles pursed his lips, twisting them to the side.

“I want her to be happy. If she thinks that New York’s the place to be…” Derek scratched at his arm without meeting Stiles’ eyes. They never talked like this before. What made now different? “I wasn’t going to come back. The McNally pack, they would have found a place for me. But Peter-“

“We’ve not seen or heard from your creepy uncle since you left. I actually kinda thought… hoped you took him with you.” Derek shook his head and Stiles continued, “It’s been pretty quiet the last few months. I’m sure that by saying that, I’ve now jinxed us all to hell. But uh-“

“But maybe I bring all the bad to Beacon Hills.”

“What? No!” Stiles nearly shouted. “No. That was not was I was saying at all!” He got up off the couch and hesitantly put his hand on Derek’s shoulder. They hadn’t touched all that much before Derek’s departure and the action made Stiles think of Boyd. “It’s not your fault. None of it is your fault. And you know, dude.” He gave Derek’s shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll tell you that everyday for forever, if that’s what it takes to get you to believe me.”

Looking up at Stiles, Derek gave him a hard stare. “Don’t call me dude.”

Letting out an amused huff, Stiles dropped his hand. “Besides, whatever next big bad thing that comes to Beacon Hills next, it totally Scott’s, Allison’s, and my fault. We’re the beacons.” Stiles made air quotes. “Of Beacon Hills. Deaton said we’re going to attract things here. When we were trying to help our parents… we-“

“I know,” Derek cut in. “I know… You did the right thing.”

“Well yeah,” Stiles said a little sarcastically. “Of course we did. We saved Mrs. McCall, Mr. Argent, and my dad and unleashed terrible evil on the population all at the same time.”

“The only terrible evil you need to worry about right now,” Derek said, standing and nudging Stiles’ backpack with his shoe. “Is getting your essay together. It’s good practice for the final exam and I’ve been told I’m a hard grader.”

Throwing his hands up in the air, Stiles muttered, “Wonderful.”

 

\--tw--

 

Looking up at the moon, Peter couldn’t help but grin. The time was almost right. He was ready for the waiting to be over. Every nerve in his body prickled in anticipation; the power he’d absorbed from killing Jennifer thrummed underneath his skin, ready to be used.

Scenting the air, Peter’s grin grew even larger as he smelled his nephew. Derek had finally returned to Beacon Hills. Peter had only been back about a week himself, as he’d been traveling, preparing for his comeback. He briefly wondered who made it back first, but then decided he really didn’t care. There wasn’t a trace of Cora in the air, but he was sure her not being in town didn’t hinder or strengthen his cause.

Sitting near the Nemeton, Peter ran his fingers along the tree stump. In his mind’s eye, he could picture Derek sitting with Scott and his numbskull best friend. He could see Isaac sitting next to the hunter girl, who was so alike and yet so different from her aunt… Peter knew he’d have to watch her carefully. She was one piece of the puzzle he couldn’t quite attest for, though he knew her father wouldn’t be much of a challenge. There were others in their group - beautiful, immune Lydia, sitting with the twins from the former Alpha Pack. Peter frowned, seeing them. As he’d taken them on before, he knew how difficult they could be…

Letting out a sigh, Peter shook his head. No. It didn’t matter how many allies Scott found himself with; he didn’t stand a chance.

  


\--tw--

 

A few weeks later, Stiles slid open the loft door and asked, “Is it hard for you, being here but not being Alpha?"  


“What the hell, Stiles?” Derek sputtered, milk dripping down his bare chest.

“What?” Stiles asked, trying to look innocent. “Didn’t your werewolf ears hear me? Isn’t that your thing, heightened senses and all that?” On the counter, half a roll of Bounty was lying on its side. Derek grabbed a couple sheets and mopped up the milk on the island. “You’ve got a little something,” Stiles teased when Derek moved onto his chest.

“What are you doing here Stiles? It’s 9am on a Saturday. Shouldn’t you be sleeping in?”

Waving off the question, Stiles went over to the island and took a bite of Derek’s cereal. “Mmm, this is good. What kind is this?” he asked as he took a second bite.

Annoyed, Derek snatched the spoon out of Stiles’ hand and lifted the bowl away from him. “Awe come on, dude. I’m hungry.” Derek tossed the contaminated spoon into the sink and pulled a clean one out of a drawer. When he went back to eating his breakfast, Stiles whined, “I’m a growing boy.”

“Don’t I see enough of you during the week?” Derek asked as he pulled a bowl out of the cabinet and filled it with cereal.

“Please, no one can get enough of this.” Stiles gestured to himself with a suggestive leer. Derek rolled his eyes as he pushed the bowl towards the human.

“You know,” Stiles went over to the refrigerator to take out the milk. “I’m not sure I’ve ever seen you eat before… that can’t be right, right? I mean we’ve known each other for ages now but-"

“Just eat Stiles. It’s too early for this.” Leaving him to find the perfect milk to cereal ratio, Derek walked away from the kitchen and over to his bed. Normally he didn’t like to eat in bed, but Stiles was exhausting, maybe he’d eat and then take a little nap.

Once Stiles’ breakfast was deemed perfect, he pulled a chair over to Derek’s bed and sat down. Gently nudging Derek’s bare foot with his sneaker, he admitted, “Sorry about the hour… I’m just not sleeping all that well. And I was up and thought you might be… sorry, dude.”

Taking a moment, while he chewed, to look at Stiles, Derek saw the tell tale signs of a sleepless night. Stiles looked pale with dark circles under his eyes. He managed to keep his head up in history class, mostly because Derek had insisted he keep Greenberg’s seat right up in the front of the room. But Derek had heard from other teachers that their classes were pretty quiet recently, as Stiles had been dozing off instead of working. “Why can’t you sleep?” Derek finally asked once both he and Stiles were done with their food.

“God, I wish I knew… Maybe its just nerves. You know, PSATs are soon, just a couple more weeks. Which means soon I’m gonna have to start applying to colleges and… I don’t know. Where’d you go to school?”

“I finished up my GED on the road when Laura and I were traveling. Then I went to community college for a year in Long Island before I went to NYU for three years. I declared education and history, worked my ass off my degree. Laura-“ Stiles held his breath while Derek continued; he almost never spoke about his older sister. “She didn’t go to school. She worked instead, so we had food, shelter when we were between packs. We never declared loyalty to anyone, what with Laura being the Alpha… we moved a lot. We had the money from our family inheritance… but it seemed wrong to use it.”

“Is it hard for you to be a Beta again?” Stiles asked once he’d let himself breath again, returning to the question he’d had when he’d first arrived at the loft.

Shrugging, Derek stood. He gathered up Stiles’ bowl with his own and went to the sink. Washing them by hand, he didn’t speak. But once he was finished he went back to his bed to sit. “I’m happy I helped Cora. She’s my sister; I couldn’t let her die. And I-“ Derek paused and let out a shaky breath. “I was never meant to be Alpha.” Tightening his hand into fists, Derek said, “I hate that my family’s legacy is gone. There’s no more Hale pack… but I was a terrible Alpha. Scott can only do better…”

Tapping Derek’s foot again, Stiles teased, his voice light, “That’s some vote of confidence.”

  


\--tw--

 

It wasn’t the first pack meeting since Derek had returned. The previous half dozen pack meetings had been more about everyone getting along, figuring out their place. Derek was impressed with Scott; he seemed like a natural leader. It wasn’t always easy to let him take the lead, not when Derek had twenty plus years on his being a werewolf. But Scott wasn’t the dumb kid, Derek had originally thought him to be.  


This meeting was the first where they had something to really discuss.

“So,” Scott started. “I’m sure we all heard about the murder that took place last night.”

Everyone in the loft nodded. Even though Derek wasn’t Alpha anymore, he’d offered his place to the pack for meetings. It made sense, as it was a large space where everyone could sit comfortably. It helped that Derek got some more furniture and everyone had a place. And Derek had no neighbors, so no one to overhear anything they shouldn’t.

Having the twins back in his home made the hairs on Derek’s neck stand on end. Every time he looked at them, he remembered the warm feeling of Boyd’s blood on his hands and cold he’d been kneeling on the flooded floor. His stomach churned when he saw how comfortable they were with the group. They were murderers… but then so was he, right?

“Yeah but Lydia didn’t lead us to the body, so it’s got to be a regular crime, right?” Allison asked from her seat next to Isaac.

Derek watched Stiles as he got up and walked to the kitchen. Knowing where everything was, Stiles got glasses out of the cupboard and brought them over the coffee table Derek had recently bought. Stiles and Scott had brought a couple bottles of soda, since Derek didn’t normally drink it and only had water to offer everyone. There had been quite an uproar, mostly from Stiles, the first time they got together and had nothing sweet to drink. As everyone else poured themselves a soda, Stiles went back to the kitchen and filled a glass with water. Handing it to Derek, he gave the werewolf a small smile. ‘It wasn’t your fault,’ he mouthed as if he’d read Derek’s thoughts about the twins. Turning back to the group, he said, “My Dad is looking into all possible leads, human leads… unless you tell me to tell him to look otherwise…”

Derek looked around the room, but everyone looked equally puzzled.

“Did he give you any details, Stiles?” Lydia asked as she sipped her Diet Coke. “Just because I didn’t… Just because I stayed in last night.” Aiden put his hand on Lydia’s knee and smirked. Not amused, Lydia pushed his hand away. “Doesn’t mean that maybe…”

“He said it looked like a regular crash. He texted me while we were taking Mr. Hale’s ‘pop quiz.’” Stiles made air quotes because it wasn’t a pop quiz if it wasn’t a surprise. And it wasn’t a surprise because Derek gave one every Friday. “The Saturn went off the road, rolled once and then the engine caught fire. Dad thought he saw some tampering with the brakes, which is why it’s under investigation as a murder, but we don’t know. What sucks though, was the woman was seven months pregnant.” No one knew what to say to that and sat quietly for a long moment.

“Derek, maybe you and I should go look at the car, see if we can scent anything out?” Scott looked over at Derek. It was nice of him to ask, instead of just ordering compliance. Nodding, Derek agreed to the suggestion.

“I’ll talk to Dad later, see if he can get you two in tomorrow or something.”

“Thanks, Stiles.” Scott slapped his friend on the arm and grinned.

Rubbing his injured arm, Stiles walked over to the phone and asked, “Well, who’s up for pizza?”

 

Over a cold slice of cheese pizza, long after the pack meeting had disbanded, Stiles admitted, “I dream about him, or her. I don’t actually know what he, she was.”

Perplexed was a good look on Derek, Stiles thought to himself when the wolf asked, “Who are you talking about?”

“My soul mate.” Stiles took another bite of his slice of meatball pizza and spoke as he chewed. “His, her name was August and they died when I was twelve. He, she was 10 about and I have no idea what happened to them. All I know is…” Stiles swallowed and touched his chest where the name barely lingered. “Is they died one day, leaving me alone.”

“And now I’m dreaming about them. Sometimes it’s a petite woman with blond hair and a cute little button nose.” Reaching up, Stiles flicked his own nose. “And sometimes he’s tall, built similarly to you with these beautiful blue eyes… And he, she is right there in front of me. All I have to do is take one step forward. But then I’m in Roscoe again, wind howling in my ears. The storm we had the night of the lunar eclipse. Roscoe’s all broken up ‘cause of the accident and not only am I hurt but so is August. And it’s like I have to make a choice – do I go to the Nemeton and save my Dad or do I help August… it doesn’t make any sense, you know?”

Stiles turned to Derek, a strange look in his eye. Quickly, Derek nodded, figuring it was the right way to respond. “I mean, August is dead, has been for years. Obviously, I know this… and then before I can make a decision, before I can even get out of the Jeep, Jennifer is there. And she’s pulling August away from me. She’s taking my decision away from me…”

Throwing his crust down on the table, Stiles got up and started to pace. “How is that right, right? Why does she get make the decision for me? She was killing people and August’s already dead so she can’t kill him, her. August can’t make Jennifer stronger… It doesn’t make any sense…”

“Well maybe,” Derek tried to cut in. But he was silenced by the look of pain Stiles shot him.

“And then everyone’s dead. She’s killed everyone.” Stiles can’t stop moving, his hands and arms jerking about like a wounded bird. “My Dad, Scott, Allison, you… but when I look at my hands. It wasn’t her… it was me. Jennifer was an emissary and I think Deaton wants me to travel down that path. But I have this darkness in me now… or maybe I always did. Maybe that’s why August died. What if I-“

Derek doesn’t let Stiles finish his train of thought. He was up grabbing Stiles’ wrists before he knew what he was doing. “Hey!” Derek urged. “Listen to me. That is not going to happen. Whether you’re an emissary or a plain ‘ol human, that is not going to happen.”

“But.” Stiles struggled against Derek’s hold even though he knew it was pointless; the werewolf was way stronger than he was. “But-“

“There are no buts, Stiles. It’s not going to happen. You are not a killer. You are a lot of things, a pain in my ass for example, but you’re not a killer. You don’t have it in you, no matter what darkness is hanging about.” Using his ankle, Derek slid his chair closer to Stiles’ before forcing the human to sit; he still didn’t let go of Stiles’ wrists. “You have to trust that you’re stronger than the darkness. Whatever light or spark you can hold onto, give it strength.”

“We’re just waiting for something to happen… for someone else to die, for Deucalion to come back or for Peter to go on another murder spree. Last night’s murder… we don’t know if it was a normal homicide or… We’re just waiting for the next big bad and I feel like I’m going crazy from the inside out.”

Rubbing circles on the inside of Stiles’ wrists with his thumbs, Derek shook his head. “I may not be the Alpha anymore.” There wasn’t an ounce of regret or frustration in Derek’s tone. “But I will protect you, even if it means protecting you from yourself.”

Slumping back in his chair, Stiles groaned. “I’m just so tired.”

“Then go to sleep, Stiles.” Derek jerked his head in the direction of his bed.

“I don’t think that’s really appropriate coming from one of my teachers,” Stiles said, trying to be his usual snarky self.

“Just get in the bed.” Derek let go of Stiles and something inside of him missed the contact. “Go to sleep; I’ll watch over you. Your Dad knows you’re here right?” Derek asked when Stiles finally stood and toed off his shoes. Nodding, Stiles followed Derek’s directions and laid down.

Pulling the comforter up to his chin, Stiles yawned and said, “Yeah I spoke to him before I drove over here. He said if Roscoe craps out before I can get home that it’s your job to drive me.”

“Sure, Stiles. I can do that.”

“You’re not really all that much of a sourwolf anymore, are you?”

“You know I don’t like that nickname.” Derek frowned and crossed his arms.

“Can’t call you dude; you don’t like sourwolf, jeez, you’re such a pickywolf.”

“Stiles,” Derek warned with a growl.

“Don’t yell at me,” Stiles whined and closed his eyes. “I’m sleeping.”

Snorting, Derek rolled his eyes. He pulled over his chair and picked his book up off the nightstand. Before he opened it, voice quiet, Derek admitted, “Kate was my soul mate.”

“What?” Stiles’ eyes shot open and he sat up on the bed. “No way! Are you serious?”

“Really, I would lie about that? I would lie about the woman who murdered most of my family?”

“Hey no-“ Stiles put his hands up in front of himself in a defensive manner. “I didn’t mean it that way. Of course I believe you. No, you wouldn’t lie about something like that…” he placated. After a long moment Stiles laid back down and rolled over on his side so that he was facing Derek. “She really was a heartless bitch, wasn’t she? Your soul mate is supposed to love you, accept you, be with you for as long as you both shall live and all that jazz."

“Yeah,” Derek agreed. “They’re not supposed to burn your home to the ground…”

“I’m so sorry, Derek. I’m so sorry that happened to you, that she happened to you.”

“Go to sleep, Stiles.” And for once Stiles listened without argument. And if, half an hour later, his head was on the floor, drooling on one of his sneakers, Derek didn’t tease him about it. And if Derek did tease him, it was only a little. Ok, a lot.

 

\--tw--

 

Peter looked at the tiny body in his hands and smiled. He knew he didn’t have a lot of time. All too soon, the police would figure out the body was stolen right from its mother’s womb. He already had the hole dug, having finished it long before he targeted the green SUV and the woman inside it.

Even though the baby was dead (like its mother, it hadn’t survived the crash), Peter gently laid it down on the dirt. Jennifer had targeted healers, virgins, etc. Peter was targeting new blood, the most innocent blood. It amused Peter that while Jennifer had had no qualms over killing people, she hadn’t gone down the same path as he. She had craved power.

With this ritual, Peter would be invincible.

  


\--tw--

 

“Why do you insist on coming to my home to do your work? If your notes weren’t good enough in class, that’s really not my problem.” Derek leaned back on his couch, book on his lap.  


Squawking, Stiles flailed his arm and turned to Derek. “You may not believe me, but my notes are impeccable. The only person with better notes would be Lydia.”

“Is that so? Because I’ve heard the chatter in the teacher’s lounge, your grades have been slipping. You only have about seven weeks before finals. Are you going to be able to salvage your grades?”

Indignant, Stiles crossed his arms over his chest. He had a pen in his mouth but easily spoke around it, like always; the pen bounced up and down. “That’s a load of crap. Not gonna lie, I may be sleeping more in class than before, but my grades are just fine.” Stiles pointed one long finger at Derek. “I resent your lies.”

Shifting to sit up straight, Derek bent of the corner of the page he was on so he wouldn’t lose his place, and tossed it on the coffee table. It landed on Stiles’ closed science textbook. “I’m not lying Stiles. Your teachers are concerned. They talk about you at least once a week. They’re used to your writing papers on strange topics because goodness only knows how your mind works. But Clifton said you fell asleep during your last exam.”

“Clifton?” Stiles asked, confused. “Mr. Jones? My calc teacher?” Derek nodded. Jerking his head to the side, Stiles shrunk in on himself. “That… may not… actually be a lie…” he said quietly. He took the pen out of his mouth and played with it in his hands.

“Your sleeping hasn’t gotten any better?” Derek’s voice was filled with concern. When Stiles had slept over a few weeks prior, he’d managed almost four hours of dead sleep before falling out of the bed and waking up.

Stiles shrugged. “Not really,” he admitted. “Most night I’m lucky if I get a couple hours of solid sleep. I’m getting all my homework in. And I’ve read all my textbooks several times. I keep hoping the history of the American Revolution will put me to bed. I’m working my ass off at lacrosse. I’ve never run so much in my life and that totally counts running away from things that go bump in the night. Everything aches and I… still can’t sleep.”

“You slept here fine…”

“Yeah, dude. That was the best sleep I got in ages.”

Derek knew he shouldn’t offer. Stiles already spent more time at the loft than was normal. He was a teacher. He was Stiles’ teacher. All he needed was someone to take things the wrong way and… Sighing, Derek pointed at his bed. “Finish up your science homework and then take a nap.”

“Oh thank god!” Stiles exclaimed, already up from his seat. “I’ll do the homework at home at 3am. Now it’s time for a nap!” Almost gleeful, Stiles strode across the loft to Derek’s bed. He toed off his shoes and dove under the sheets. “You need better AC in here, dude. It’s getting warm, too warm for this heavy blanket.”

“Don’t complain, Stiles,” Derek muttered with a roll of his eyes.

  


Two hours later, the door to the loft slid open and in strode Scott. “Hey, Derek,” he greeted as he neared the couch where Derek was grading papers. He’d given up his book for actual work. “I was wondering if you had time to go out scouting. We all know Peter is up to something.” They’d been sure for weeks even though they hadn’t been able to pick up Peter’s scent. The marks on the SUV’s breaks had looked a little too much like claw marks for anyone not to be wary. Looking past Derek, Scott cocked an eyebrow. “Is Stiles in your bed?”

Derek nearly leaned forward to put his head in his hands. He was going to lose his job for sure. Not that he thought Scott would say anything, but there was no way this wasn’t going to bite him in the ass. “He hasn’t been sleeping.”  


“Oh shit, I know! I’m not faring much better than he is…” Scott moved so he could sit next to Derek. “I think being a werewolf, or maybe having an anchor is keeping me sane. The shit I dream at night; I’d rather be awake. Allison’s not doing too badly… Isaac,” Scott said, and if his voice was slightly bitter at the Beta’s mention, Derek didn’t comment on it. “Says she’s training all the time. Maybe that’s how she’s keeping it all together, working it out.”

“Stiles said he’d been doing a lot of lacrosse.”

“Yeah.” Scott puffed his chest out proud. “I’m pretty sure he’s gonna make first string senior year if this keeps up. After last year’s win, Coach already got him off the bench a bit. But now with all the work he’s putting in, he’s getting really good.” Scott turned to look at Stiles, craning his neck to get a good view of his friend. “Does he sleep here a lot?”

Shaking his head, Derek said, “Second time.”

“Well, thanks for looking out for him. He needs the sleep and he-“ Scott cut off and smiled. There was something more he wanted to say, but Derek had no idea what it could be. “Ok, well. I work for Deaton tomorrow but I won’t be out too late. Tonight you watch him and tomorrow we’ll see if we can get anything on Peter?”

“Sure.”

“Cool. Thanks, Derek. Really, I mean it.” Scott put his hand on Derek’s shoulder for a second before getting up. “Have a good night,” he called over his shoulder as he walked to the door.

“You too,” Derek said once the door was closed.

  


\--tw--

 

“Dude.” Stiles turned around in front of the mirror to admire his own ass. All the lacrosse training was really paying off. “Why don’t you just ask both of them? Take Allison and Isaac to junior prom. We’re all basically going as a group anyway so we’re going to be together. And it’ll be less awkward for you if you just own up to your little crush on Isaac. How’s living together, by the way?”  


Slapping the back of Stiles head, Scott glared at his friend. “Seriously, sometimes I think you are out of your mind. I do not have a crush on Isaac.” Scott shut his locker with a huff. “Are we still going to the movies tonight? There’s gotta be something that’ll be worth paying eleven dollars for.”

“No, sorry man. Deaton texted me. He wants me to come over for another magical herbs session. Like there’s really more to know than mountain ash.” Stiles swung his backpack over his shoulder. “But back to Isaac - he’s dating your soul mate, so you gotta do something about it. And what’s wrong with a little ménage à trois, especially among friends?”

“Remind me why _we’re_ friends? Cause sometimes I really have no idea.”

“Oh ha ha, screw you man. Just do it! Because I am sick of your pining. Go after your girl, dude. You love her. We know she loves you. And it’s hard not to adore Isaac now that he’s stopped being a total dick. He was such a dick after he, you know.” Stiles waved his hands around like a crazy person. He couldn’t say too much because they were in the boy’s locker room after gym class. “Dude, if you don’t talk to them, I will.”

Slamming one hand against his gym locker, Scott turned to Stiles and glared. “You will not,” he bit out.

Backing away from his friend, Stiles waggled his eyebrows and said, “Try me.” He darted away and it was only his years of ducking Scott’s swings that enabled Stiles to escape his werewolf friend. At the top of the stairs, it appeared that luck was on his side because Allison and Isaac were strolling down the hall. “Allison!” he yelled, getting the brunette’s, and several other people’s, attention. “Scott needs to talk to you.” He darted behind his hunter friend, hoping she would protect him from his best friend.

Coming into the hall, it was easy to see Scott was pissed. It was lucky for everyone in the school that he had such a handle on being Alpha.

Stiles put one hand on Isaac’s shoulder and his other on Allison’s. “Scott wants to take you both to junior prom,” he said as he gave his friends a nice shove forward.

“Do you?” Allison asked.

And, at exact same time, Isaac said, “Yes.”

Giving Scott a thumbs up sign, Stile backed away from the trio. He saw Scott look to Allison and then to Isaac and then back again. Scott looked a little surprised that Isaac agreed so readily but then he broke out in a huge grin. Stiles inwardly cheered; he was a fantastic matchmaker. Letting his friends make their prom plans, Stiles headed for the cafeteria. He always worked up quite the appetite during gym; it was a good thing he had lunch right after.

 

“So.” Lydia smiled at Stiles, capturing him with one look. Taking a small step back, Stiles grimaced as Lydia’s smile grew. He tightened his grip on his lunch tray, nervous he might suddenly drop it. Even though he was long over his crush, the red head still managed to get his stomach tied up in knots.

“What going on with you and Derek?” She kept her voice low, but no one in the cafeteria was paying them any mind anyway. Lydia, while still popular, had fallen several rungs on the popularity ladder since Scott had first been bitten. She didn’t need to worry about people listening in on her conversations. Lydia led the way to an empty table and sat down. When she looked pointedly at the chair across from her, Stiles knew there was no escaping.

“Ugh,” Stiles croaked. “Nothing. Nothing is going on. Why would you even ask me that?”

“Oh come on.” Lydia popped a grape in her mouth and chewed slowly. “We’re friends,” she continued once done. “You can tell me these things. I suspect you don’t really want to tell Scott.”

“There’s nothing going on,” Stiles insisted. “And even if there was, there’s no reason I couldn’t go to Scott. He’s my best friend.”

“I know, I know. He’s your best friend. And he should listen to you, especially since you got him and Allison talking again… I saw your little show in the hall a few minutes ago.” Lydia inspected her nails even though they both knew they were perfectly manicured.

“Of course you did,” Stiles muttered as he looked at the lump of mashed potatoes on his tray.

“But still, you really want to go to him when you’re stressing over what to wear to best catch Mr. Hale’s attention?”

“Lydia, stop it!” Stiles’ voice was low and tight, his fists clenched on the table. He tried to keep his blush to a minimum but knew he was fighting a losing battle. There was nothing he could do to keep his face from getting tomato red. So, he had a little crush? It didn’t mean anything! Looking down at his hands, he made visible effort to relax them. “There’s nothing going on.”

“If his being a teacher is the only thing stopping you, then I can understand that,” Lydia responded amicably. She openly ignored Stiles’ frustration and embarrassment. “But,” she said, reaching over and patting Stiles’ cheek, her perfect nails just grazing his skin. “He’s not going to be our teacher forever.”


	2. Chapter 2

The first time Stiles came home to see Derek sitting at his kitchen table, to say he was surprised was an understatement. He actually paused in the kitchen to look around to make sure he was home and not in the loft by mistake. But no, he was home and, through the kitchen window, he could see his father in the backyard on the grill. He ignored the butterflies that came to life in his stomach. Derek could hear when someone lied, but he couldn’t hear butterflies, right? “Um, what are you doing here?” Stiles asked as he grabbed the milk out of the fridge and drank straight from the carton.

“Your father and I were food shopping at the same time and he invited me to dinner.” If Derek was disgusted by Stiles’ lack of a glass, he didn’t comment or anything.

“My Dad invited you to dinner?” Stiles was still a little confused because, even though his father was up to date on werewolves and other things that go bump in the night, he didn’t think the Sheriff and Derek ever really talked. Aside from the time that Derek was taken into custody, at least.

“Well he asked if I was going to visit Cora over the summer. And when I said I was only planning on a couple weeks in August, he insisted I join him, you, for steaks on the grill tonight.”

“Uh huh.” Stiles put the milk away and crossed his arms. “With you here, I can’t bitch about the steak because of course, we want the best for our guest…” Stiles frowned in concentration. “Don’t be surprised when he invites you back next week or something. He’s using you.”

“You really think your Dad is that nefarious?” Derek asked with a chuckle.

“Yes,” Stiles responded immediately. “But I see through his plan.” He waved a finger in Derek’s direction. “Don’t get me wrong, of course he wants you to be welcome here. We’re all family now right? Pack? Family? But he’s still using you for steak.” Opening the fridge again, Stiles instructed, “Get up. Get a large bowl out of the cabinet. We’re making salad. Gotta take care of Dad somehow.”

Hopping up, Derek went to the first cabinet to look for what Stiles wanted. Pulling a bowl out, Derek asked, “This big enough?”

With the refrigerator door protecting him, Stiles gulped once before leaning around the door to see what Derek had. “Yup, perfect,” he said before he went back to gathering lettuce and other veggies for the salad. “You like ranch, right?” Stiles asked, remembering the bottle he’d seen in Derek’s fridge the week before.

“Yes,” Derek confirmed as he took a paper towel and wiped the bowl clean.

“Great.” Stiles took the bottle out and balanced it on the veggies in his arms. Closing the door with his hip, he made his way over to Derek. Unloading everything on the counter, Stiles turned his head towards the werewolf. “Help me chop?” he requested. Shrugging, Derek held his hand out for the tomatoes.

“So… Dad invited you over and then ditched you to go grill?” Stiles asked, cucumber in hand.

“We talked for a little while, had a beer… and then he ditched me for the grill.” Derek turned and gave Stiles a small smile. “He said you’d be back soon and insisted that I could wait in here where it’s cooler. I know better than to fight with the Sheriff.”

“Yeah,” Stiles said with a shrug. “That’s a lesson I haven’t quite learned.”

 

When David came in a few minutes later, Derek heard the door open but didn’t turn, while Stiles was too immersed in standing next to Derek to focus on much more than not cutting himself. Tilting his head to the side, David watched his son intently. Stiles was close to Derek, almost too close for the work they were doing. He was surprised they weren’t knocking each other as they prepared the salad. But somehow it was seamless, the rhythm they’d built up.

David could see where this was going. He isn’t blind; he realized that Derek was an attractive man. And, now that he knew about werewolves, David kept a tally of how many times Stiles mentioned the Beta turned Alpha turned Beta turned teacher. And another tab for all the times Stiles mentioned going over to Derek’s loft. For a second, he worried that this would be another ‘Lydia’ situation. But then, David realized, Derek seemed just as comfortable, standing next to Stiles.

The age difference was an issue, but it would only be one for another five months. Derek being Stiles’ teacher, well that was a whole ‘nother can of worms, right there.

He’d have to wait to see what happened.

\--tw--

“We have four pregnant women, two who are now dead. And all four without their children…” Stiles made a face as he paced Derek’s loft. Pausing for just a second to wipe some sweat off his brow, he cursed the hot weather of summer. “Why is it so fucking hot?”

“Because it’s July?” Lydia rolled her eyes and sat back on her chair. She looked as cool and comfortable as ever which irked Stiles even further. “Just get a drink of water, Stiles, and cool down.”

Throwing his hands up in the air, Stiles listened to the sweetly veiled command. He couldn’t think when it was so hot. He felt like his brain was melting and oozing out his ears. On top of that, his inability to sleep was almost to the breaking point. (His father had gone to the doctor with him to get a prescription for sleeping pills. They’d been a godsend in the beginning. One pill could knock him out for six or seven hours. It was more than enough sleep to bounce back for the end of the school year. But too soon the nightmares came back, overpowering the drugs. They returned to the doctor when Stiles was taking four or five pills some nights and still only sleeping a couple hours, but they had yet to find a pill that worked for more than a few weeks. David was concerned about overmedicating even though Stiles didn’t seem addicted. But that was mostly because they seemed to be so little help. The last thing David wanted was for Stiles to accidently overdose.)

Stiles had a feeling that Derek had followed him into the kitchen and was sure the older man was standing right behind him, so he muttered harshly, “Dude, I’ve told you more than once, you need better AC in here.” Proving Stiles right, Derek took the glass out from Stiles’ hand, went to the refrigerator, and took out the Britta. Like Stiles had many times since Derek had come back to Beacon Hills, Derek took a sip out of the glass before handing it over to Stiles. And then he forced himself to look away when Stiles turned the glass to drink over the same place Derek had.

“You need to calm down,” Derek said, looking in the freezer for something else that might cool Stiles off. “You’re putting everyone on edge.” Pulling out a cherry popsicle that he only kept stocked for the human, Derek knew that he absolutely couldn’t look at Stiles until Stiles was one, finished sucking on said popsicle, and two, free of any pink staining his lips. It was going to be a long night. “Go sit down, shut up and eat this, and relax. Got it?” Derek questioned with a hard stare.

Nodding eagerly, Stiles took the popsicle in hand and went back to the others.

“From my Dad’s research,” Allison said, gesturing to the book she’d borrowed, which was sitting on her lap. “We’ve narrowed the possibilities to what Peter might be planning. But we not really sure… The Darach’s plan was easier to figure out, Dad says.”

“So, you’re saying there are lots of plans that involve innocent little babies?” Isaac asked looking slightly green. He was sitting next to Allison’s right side with Scott on Allison’s left. Junior prom had been a turning point for the trio. Stiles tried to get details out of Scott but, at the same time, was afraid of the answer he might receive. When Scott and Allison had first met and Scott had been so enamored, Stiles had suffered through countless hours of the many gifts that were Allison. Stiles didn’t want to hear about Isaac this time.

“Well more than what Jennifer was doing.” Everyone winced at the mention of the Darach’s name and Allison grimaced apologetically. Everyone tried to just say ‘Darach’, especially around Derek. “Once the pattern was picked up, we had a decent idea of what she was planning. Dad pointed out at least three different plans that Peter could be doing that just depend on the moon. The earliest he could do something would be this Monday on the New Moon. But I think… there’s a better chance he’s gonna use the Blue Moon in August.”

Stiles pawed at a book on the coffee table. “August 20th?” he asked around the popsicle.

“Why wait another month?” Ethan questioned from his seat off to the side. Aiden always sat next to Lydia, who usually put herself at the center of everything. Ethan, even after months of pack meetings, tended to hang back in the loft. Derek appreciated the distance.

“Because then he’ll have two more bodies and just that much more power.” Allison shrugged.

“Because if he does it on the Blue Moon, it’s called, ‘Reprise du Rite de Sang’, a.k.a ‘Reclaiming Blood Rite.’ The ritual uses the blood and bodies of babies born of soul mate unions. As we all know, not everyone does actually find his or her soul mate. So, children born of such unions- their blood is kind of... worth more?” Stiles put the popsicle stick in his water glass so that the coffee table didn’t get sticky. “Right, Allison?”

The hunter nodded and gave him a thumbs up. “Nice job with your accent.”

“He could be trying,” Stiles continued, “To get the Hale Legacy back. Yeah, Deaton mentioned it to me the other day at his office. And thank you.” He shot a grin Allison’s way.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Derek looked at Stiles. “And what were you doing at Deaton’s office?”

“Nothing to worry your pretty little head about.” Stiles waved off Derek’s concern with a flick of his wrist. 

“Well, if we’re not sure,” Scott said, stepping in before Derek and Stiles could start bickering, “We’ll just have to be prepared for anything. That means everyone clear your schedules for Monday. We’re gonna be on lookout for… anything. And if it’s not Monday, well then we’re lucky to have more time to come up with a better plan.”

\--tw--

By the fourth time Derek joined the Stilinskis for dinner, Stiles was no longer surprised. He just bossed Derek around the kitchen when they cooked and nagged his father about his eating habits. It was really business as usual except for the fact that the more time they spent together, the harder Stiles fell for Derek. But what he didn’t know was Derek was falling right back.

Derek knew Stiles was a pain in the ass. He knew long before he taught him in class and knew it even more when they spent so much time together. But true to his word, every time they were together (he didn’t give himself a break for summer vacation), Stiles reminded him that Erica and Boyd’s deaths weren’t his fault. When they were in school, Stiles would whisper it as he left class no matter how annoyed he was with his teacher. At home, Stiles took the time to touch Derek’s arm, meet his gaze, and tell him what he felt. He was so eager to free Derek of guilt.

It was amazing to have Cora back. It took time for them to work things out, but she made Derek happy. But it was more amazing to have Stiles, to feel like he really cared. Stiles didn’t care for anyone lightly. He threw his whole self into it. Derek shouldn’t be surprised; he’d seen how Stiles was with his friends, how he did his best to be prepared for whatever was to come, even if some of his ideas weren’t the best.

He was a good student too, when he actually did his essays on the assigned topics. Thanks to his naps at the loft, Stiles had managed to save his grades. The sleep he racked up helped him stay awake in class to the relief and annoyance of his teachers. They were happy to see him back on track, but they missed the quiet that came with a sleeping Stiles. And he aced all his finals.

So, Derek really shouldn’t have been surprised by his reaction to the Stilinski determination. But he was. The warm feeling that steadily grew in the pit of his stomach the more time he spent with Stiles and his father made him feel better than he had in years.

Family.

Derek had missed that feeling so much, he didn’t even know what he was missing until it was back in his life. He loved the way he and Stiles and Sheriff Stilinski sat and chatted at the dinner table, how doing dishes next to Stiles while the Sheriff watched the game was easy and almost fun with one of them washing and the other drying, and how later he and Stiles sat on the couch and watch a movie or sat out in the backyard to enjoy the warm weather. When Stiles randomly popped up at the loft, it annoyed Derek (well, really only when Stiles showed up early on the weekends when Derek wanted to sleep). But here, in another family’s territory, Derek didn’t feel like walking on eggshells, he felt welcome, whole.

Stiles invited Derek to watch a movie the first time he was over for dinner. It wasn’t so much an invitation as Stiles held up the dvd case, waved in front of Derek’s face, and then led him to the couch. They sat on different ends of the couch, not touching. But the fourth time Derek stayed past dinner, neither of them tried to stay away from the other.

Derek toed off his shoes before getting comfortable on the couch while Stiles perused their options. “You know I don’t really care what you pick,” he said, knowing it would rile up the younger man. Just like he expected, Stiles turned to glare at Derek before turning his attention back on task. Sighing, Derek rolled his eyes. Finally, once the perfect movie had been picked and put into the player, the opening music playing on the speakers, Stiles sat down and put his feet up on the coffee table. Leaning his head back on the couch, Derek relaxed, happy to have a warm body lined up against his.

When he woke up a while later, the television was off as well as most of the lights and Stiles had his head leaning on Derek’s thigh. Remembering that the Sheriff had the night shift, he realized he and Stiles were alone in the house. Derek lifted his arms over his head and stretched. He couldn’t believe he’d fallen asleep. Everyone was stressed from keeping an eye for Peter, but he hadn’t realized how tired he really was until then. Looking down at Stiles, Derek hesitated to put his hand on Stiles’ head, running his fingers through the younger man’s hair. He bit his lip the second he gave into temptation. He knew he shouldn’t. There were so many reasons as to why they could never work, the fact that he was Stiles’ teacher right up at the top. But so was their age difference and all the baggage he came up.

“I sleep better when you’re nearby,” Stiles murmured, eyes still closed.

If it hadn’t meant dumping Stiles on the ground, Derek would have rushed out of the house right then and there. Peter aside, he was finally getting his life on track. He couldn’t risk everything…

“Relax, sourwolf,” Stiles said; he always seemed to know when Derek was agonizing over something. “I’m not declaring my undying love for you tonight. Close your eyes and go back to sleep.”

Derek tried to obey the command, really he did. But he couldn’t calm down. He and Stiles were too close. He wouldn’t drag Stiles down to his level. Derek startled, shaking the whole couch, when Stiles reached up and grabbed his hand.

“Relax, sourwolf,” Stiles repeated, entwining his and Derek’s fingers together. He shifted until Derek and his hands were resting on his chest. Derek knew Stiles wouldn’t let go, his grip was tight.

“Does that mean you might declare your undying love for me another night?” Derek whispered. He tried for a teasing tone but fell flat. Part of him was scared of Stiles’ answer.

“Maybe, if you’re lucky.”

\--tw--

Waking up on the ground, Derek wasn’t really surprised that the plan didn’t work. It wasn’t that Scott hadn’t come up with a decent plan, but that Peter was, like usual, a step, or possibly four steps, ahead of them. In an odd thought, Derek was relieved Peter and Deucalion had never teamed up; they would have been unstoppable.

Trying to sit up, Derek felt exhausted. He felt drained, similarly to how he felt when he woke up after saving Cora.

He kind of remembered seeing Peter before he’d blacked out. He’d been walking in the woods, headed for the Nemeton, when Derek thought he saw Peter’s blue eyes and a figure approached. His uncle had never been able to move so fast in the past, so he’d had been taken by surprise when Peter attacked him outright.

Inspecting the damage, Derek saw his right side was still bleeding from where Peter had speared him with his claws. He was so focused on his weariness and pain that it took Derek several seconds to hear yelling from further in the woods. Struggling to stand, he put his hand over his wound and felt his skin knitting itself back together. As he made his way further into the woods, closer to the Nemeton, the voices Derek heard got louder, clearer.

Derek made it to the clearing in time to see Allison scream and sail through the air. Peter had tossed her to the side like a rag doll. Isaac followed her arc with his eyes and, when she landed, it was easy to see he was torn. Should he run over to see if she was ok or attack Peter? Checking on Allison won out when Scott let out a deafening roar and charged at Peter.

Derek watched as Scott swiped his claws at Peter’s neck, missed and was knocked back. As Scott slid back on the ground, Peter pounced on him and bit his shoulder. Scott cried out in pain but focused enough to run his nails up Peter’s back. Reeling back, Peter spit some of Scott’s blood onto the ground. “You don’t have what it takes to kill me,” he crowed.

“No, but I do.” Derek rushed forward and knocked his uncle off of his Alpha. Wrestling on the ground, Derek stabbed at Peter several times, trying to inflict as much damage as he could before he was inevitably thrown back. Hitting the stump of the Nemeton, Derek leaned on it, trying to get catch his breath. He only paused for a second before he, Scott, and Isaac all tried to attack Peter as one. Isaac went for Peter’s legs, trying to slow him down while Scott aimed for Peter’s gut. Derek tried again for his uncle’s throat, barely grazing the skin. Peter just laughed and in one swoop knocked them all back.

There was a rushing sound as Allison, from her place on the ground, tried to shoot an arrow from her crossbow. Catching it in his hand, Peter inspected the arrow for a second before snapping it in two. “Nice try, little girl.” He sneered. “Now, why don’t you come here so I can kill you like I did your beloved aunt…” Peter took a step towards Allison when Aiden, Ethan, Lydia, and Stiles burst into the clearing.

Aiden and Ethan ran at Peter while Stiles pulled random bags out of his pockets. “Sorry we’re late to the party,” he called out, searching for the right thing. Opening a baggie, Stiles grinned and coated his hands in something. Heading to where, the twins were getting their asses kicked, Stiles reached out and punched Peter in the face. Derek watched, wide eyed as Peter was ripped from Ethan and Aiden’s grasp. He disappeared for a second then reappeared at the other end of the clearing the clearing. Stiles threw a hand into the air, proud of what he’d done.

But the attack didn’t keep Peter down long and too soon he was up. Moving faster than should be possible, even for a werewolf, he ran straight for Stiles.

“Watch out!” Derek warned, moving to intercept his uncle. But Peter had his eyes set on Stiles and easily knocked Derek out of the way. When he did so, Derek choked on his breath. Were Peter’s eyes red? Looking up at the sky, he saw the moon was at her highest point. They didn’t have much more time to kill Peter before he was a full Alpha again.

“Allison!” Stiles yelled at his friend as he stumbled back from Peter. “I’m gonna need some fire!”

“Right,” Allison confirmed, already cuing up her crossbow. Even in the middle of the fight, Derek couldn’t help but cringe as she lit the tip of her arrow on fire.

Throwing a handful of acorns into the air, Stiles took a step back when Allison’s perfect aim caused the one to explode, leading to a cacophony of snap, crackle, and pop as the others followed. Snapdragon flowers were set ablaze and they fell down on Peter who screamed in pain. A few landed on Stiles, burning holes into his clothes.

With Peter distracted by the flowers, Derek ran at him again, catching him across the stomach with his claws. Peter howled in pain before grabbing Derek by the throat and lifting him into the air. “So sad to see you go, dear nephew. But I think I’ll just rip out your windpipe.”

As Derek’s head pounded from a lack of oxygen, he heard Scott organize the rest of the pack. He and Isaac came at Peter from one side with the twins attacking the other. Aiden grabbed Peter’s arm and forced him to let go of Derek. Derek fell to the ground in time to see three arrows imbed themselves in Peter’s back. Blood seeped out of the wounds, ruining the back of Peter’s shirt.

The twins forced Peter to kneel; they were still full Alphas while Peter’s ritual wasn’t quite finished. “Oh…” Peter laughed. “This is so sweet, your mismatched pack working together…” There was only a slight look of terror on Peter’s face. And it only appeared when Ethan gripped him hard and popped his shoulder out of its socket. He knew he could take Scott, but with the twins, he wasn’t the only Alpha in the fight.

“Stiles,” Derek instructed. “The mountain ash!”

“Got it, got it,” Stiles called back picking a baggie up off the ground. Stiles stuck his hand into the bag and gathered some of the ash in his hand before walking closer to Peter. Trying to make sure he didn’t trap any of his pack with Peter, he started to pour the ash in a circle. Stiles was almost finished when Peter shifted violently and shoved his captors off of him. Ethan and Aiden were both knocked backward into the trees.

“Get away from him!” Derek yelled but instead of running away Stiles finished the circle with him inside in.

“Oh…” Peter tilted his head to the side, examining the human in front of him. “Are you planning on fighting me? That little trick with the acorns was cute, I’ll give Deaton credit for that one.”

“Actually, it was all me… I thought to combine the snapdragons with the acorns.” Even with Peter getting closer, Stiles took a second to look pleased with himself. “You can give Deaton for the credit of juniper and lily of the valley. Neat little spell – I loved watching you soar through the air.”

“Hmm. I guess I was wrong about you. I should have killed you that night at the school.”

“Stiles!” Scott screamed, trying to reach inside the circle for his friend. “Get out of there. You’re human; just step over the line!”

Peter took another step towards Stiles and the teen took an involuntary step back. When Stiles’ heel brushed the mountain ash line, Derek’s voice caught; he couldn’t make a sound. All he wanted to do was pull Stiles away from his uncle. Scott was right, Derek knew. All Stiles needed to do was take another step back to get to safety. In his head, he chanted, ‘Get away, Stiles. Step back!’ over and over.

But when Peter raised one clawed hand, and took another step forward, Stiles didn’t try to escape. Derek felt his pounding heart climb into his throat. The rushing in Derek’s ears didn’t muffle the sound Stiles made when Peter’s hand came down to claw at Stiles’ shoulder. As blood sprang forward, bile rose up into Derek’s mouth. Even though he was injured, Stiles raised his hand to shove mountain ash into Peter’s face and mouth.

Instantly, Peter’s face started to blacken. Ignoring the pain of his arm, Stiles grinned at the werewolf. “For such a smart guy, how’d you not realize it’s not a pure mountain ash wall? Hope you like that concentrated wolfsbane that’s mixed in…”

As his body fought against the poison, Peter fell into a crumpled heap on the ground. He clawed at the dirt and debris, moaning in pain. Everyone else stood still for a long moment, watching him. Each of them was ready to charge back in if Peter showed that he had fight left in him.

“Who wants the honor of killing him?” Aiden asked, a gleeful look on his face. Derek couldn’t look at him when he seemed so excited to kill another person and turned away to watch Scott. He could see Scott steel himself to do what had to be done when Lydia stepped forward.

“I think I should get to do it.” Lydia pulled a gun out of the back of her jeans. She twisted it in her hand several times, as if testing out the weight of the cool metal. It looked like the gun that the Sheriff had been training her and Stiles on a few weeks prior.

“You’re a banshee…” Peter grinned up at her with bloody teeth, his voice hoarse. More than a little blood was still dripping down his chin and onto his torn shirt. The blood matched his fully red eyes. He was fully an Alpha again. “Banshees don’t kill people.” He started to laugh though it was broken as he continued to shudder in pain.

Lydia didn’t hesitate to raise her gun to Peter’s forehead. “Well this one does,” she declared before pulling the trigger. Blood shot in several directions as the back of Peter’s head was destroyed. Keeping her calm, Lydia placed the gun on the ground and stepped back from the body. Then she turned to the rest of the pack and asked, “What are we going to do with him to make sure he can never come back again?”

“Cut him up…” Derek whispered, now staring at the body. His uncle was dead again… 

Looking around at the rest of the group, Derek saw surprise and awe on everyone’s faces. They’d actually taken Peter down. It wasn’t that they hadn’t taken enemies out before, but that they had managed to do it together, as a pack.

Lydia walked over to Aiden, her loose hair bouncing with each step, and wrapped her arms around his neck. Derek could see she was shaking, reality catching up to her. He was impressed with her. The last thing Derek expected was for Lydia Martin to kill someone. But she was right - she deserved the kill. Peter had hurt her, haunted her, and nearly drove her mad.

Out of the corner of his eye, Derek saw Scott and Stiles hug. They both looked relieved to see the other whole. When Scott let go of Stiles, he walked over to where Allison and Isaac were standing and kissed them both.

“We cut him up,” Derek continued. “Burn the pieces, and bury the ashes in several different places. We spread him out so nothing, no one, can make him whole.”

“Guess it’s a good thing we brought plenty of matches and lighter fluid.” Lydia stepped out of Aiden’s hold and crossed her arms over her chest.

As the group started to further destroy Peter’s body, a red light was released from his corpse. “It’s the Hale legacy…” Derek said, in awe of the power in front of him. Peter’s ritual had succeeded and now the power had nowhere to go. Reaching forward, the light swirled around Derek’s abused fingers. He could be an Alpha again.

Stepping back from the light, Derek let out a peaceful sigh. “This power doesn’t belong to me.” Derek moved so that he was standing next to Scott. “This power belongs with you.” As if the power agreed with Derek’s words, it shot forward and surrounded Scott, slowing absorbing into his skin. Scott shifted and stretched, getting used to the power that rushed inside his body. With his Alpha distracted, Derek headed to the other side of the clearing where Stiles was nursing his injuries.

“It was sweet of you to try and protect me,” Stiles said by way of greeting as Derek sat down. Not answering, Derek laid a hand on Stiles’ and leeched away some of the human’s pain. “Hey! Don’t take too much… I need to know where it hurts so I can get these stitches right.”

“We could just go to the hospital. You have burns all over the place and a nurse should look at you instead of you doing it yourself.”

“Please.” Stiles waved off Derek’s concern. “I got this.” They sat together for several minutes as Stiles tied himself back together. Neither of them looked to where the rest of the pack was hacking at Peter’s corpse and burning it until it was nothing. 

“What about the lily of the valley you used? It’s poisonous.”

“Do me a favor and reach into my back pocket?” Stiles gestured to his right side with his head. When Derek got it out and opened, Stiles dipped his fingers into a blue mixture. “A healing salve; Deaton gave it to me. Thanks for reminding me I had it.” Making sure he had enough on both hands, Stiles continued, “It’ll turn white when all the poison has been drawn out.” The duo watched the salve slowly change color and then after Stiles got the dried goop off his hands, he went back to finishing his stitches. When he was done with his shoulder, he looked at Derek and gave him a small smile. “You could have been an Alpha again…”

“I- I didn’t want it, didn’t deserve it… Laura was always supposed to be the Alpha… I… screwed everything up when I was Alpha.”

“You saved Cora!” Stiles interrupted.

Shaking his head, Derek said, “You’re right… that was the best thing I did. But I don’t want that kind of power again. I’m a Beta; I know my place.”

Before Stiles could say anything else, Scott came over. Allison was leaning heavily on him and he had one arm wrapped around her waist. “Your place is here, in this pack.” Scott turned his head to kiss Allison’s forehead before saying, “I may be Alpha… but this will always be the Hale pack, Hale territory.” Turning back, Scott gave Derek a sincere smile. “I never would have survived if it wasn’t for you. Peter would have destroyed me sophomore year and… you said it once a long time ago, ‘we’re brothers.’ I’d really like for that to be true, Derek.” With his free hand, Scott reached out to where Derek was sitting.

“Brothers,” Derek agreed, taking Scott’s hand in his own. “I think we can make that work.”


	3. Chapter 3

On Stiles’ 18th birthday, long after the slashes and burns that Peter caused had healed, scabbed over, and scarred, David decided he and his son needed to have a talk. It was nearly Thanksgiving break and Derek had only been over for dinner a handful of times since the school year started, and mostly at David’s instance. It was a big difference compared to the summer where Derek had been by almost weekly, especially after Stiles was hurt.

Mrs. Barretty decided she wanted to take some more time off to enjoy her daughter’s infancy and Derek was offered her position. David understood that Derek valued his job; even with Stiles now of legal age, dating a student, could put everything Derek worked for at risk. But David also knew that Stiles and Derek seemed to bring out the best of each other.

While Stiles’ sleeping had improved with Peter’s demise, he still seemed best after spending time with Derek. But forty-five minutes a day in class didn’t really cut it. And Stiles didn’t go over to the loft as much any more, probably for the same reason that Derek didn’t come by the house. They weren’t soul mates and, if any relationship came to light, it could be bad for both of them.

But David loved his son. He’d had a wonderful, if cut short, life with Claudia and he wanted Stiles to have that himself. He wanted Stiles to smile more. Ideally, they would go back to before Scott was bitten, when both boys were more relaxed and open. But there was no way to change the past. They could only move forward.

If they were careful, David wanted Stiles and Derek to move forward together.

 

“Stiles,” David called as he entered his house. He could smell mac-n-cheese cooking in the kitchen. David figured it must have been a bad day at school for Stiles to cook something unhealthy for dinner. But he was corrected when he entered the kitchen and saw a couple bowls of steamed veggies on the table. Maybe it was actually an ‘okay day’.

“Yeah, Dad?” Stiles looked up from the pot and smiled. He then pointed at the oven with his toe and said, “Get the chicken out, would you?”

‘Ok,” David thought to himself. ‘Maybe today was a ‘good day’.’ Opening the oven, the smell of chicken filled the air. The baked chicken breasts looked delicious; David put on some oven mitts to pull the tray out. With one hand, he grabbed the tray and put the other mitt on the table. Then he laid the pan on top of it. Looking at Stiles carefully, David asked, “What happened at school?” He tried to sound like a father and not a sheriff. Sitting down, he pushed his morning paper out of the way. He’d meant to bring it to work with him, but had forgotten it. As he placed it on the chair they kept open for Claudia, David noticed the advertisements to help people locate their soul mates; they took over most of the open page. Frowning, David folded the paper over, so he didn’t have to look at it. He hoped Stiles hadn’t seen it, when he was preparing dinner.

“Nothing happened at school.” Stiles turned his head and over his shoulder gave his father a confused look. “Do you know something I don’t know?”

“There’s plenty I know that you don’t know.”

Stiles rolled his eyes but mumbled, “Of course.” As he ladled the mac-n-cheese into a bowl, he said, “School was fine. Lydia heard from Jackson. He’s comin’ in for Christmas so they can spend a week or so together. She’s thrilled, of course.” (Aiden wasn’t but then Stiles didn’t care how he felt.) Sitting down at the table, Stiles wasted no time in portioning out some of the goods onto his plate before putting a smaller amount of pasta on his father’s.

“That’s nice. What else?” David speared a chicken breast with his fork and brought it to his plate. When he put it down he saw Stiles had already doled him out some steamed carrots and broccoli.

“Why does there have to be something else?”

“Because you put mac-n-cheese on your ‘don’t eat list.’” David made air quotes with one hand. “And yet, here we are having it for dinner.”

“Maybe I’ve just grown up.” Stiles straightened in his seat. “You know, I’m eighteen now.”

“Oh yes, I noticed,” David teased, digging into the spread in front of him. They’d had their father-son birthday dinner a few nights earlier before Stiles went out and spent the night at Scott’s. What the boys did, he didn’t want to know.

“And maybe I thought, ‘today, I’ll treat my hard working Dad to something special.’”

“Mac-n-cheese ain’t that special kid. What do you want?”

“Nomorecurfew,” Stiles muttered quickly, making three words into one.

Leaning back in his chair, David put his fork down and stared at his son. “Hmm… On the school nights, no.” Stiles sagged in his seat but perked back up when his father continued with, “But… I’ll raise your curfew to eleven, no later.”

“And on the weekend?” Stiles asked, hopeful, straightening further on the chair.

“Do you have somewhere specific in mind to go all night?” And damnit if Stiles didn’t blush. David thought Stiles looked most like his mother when he blushed. He turned the same shade of pink as she did and pursed his lips exactly the same way.

“No, I don’t have anywhere in mind.”

David was sure that was a lie but didn’t pursue it. “And how is Derek these days? He hasn’t been by in almost three weeks. Did you invite him to Thanksgiving dinner like I asked you to?” When Stiles’ blush increased, David didn’t pursue it either. Instead he continued with, “Last time I talked to him, he said he wasn’t sure if he was going to see Cora for the holiday. It’ll be nice for him to have another option if he doesn’t go to New York.”

“What does my curfew or lack thereof have to do with Derek?”

“I don’t know, you tell me.”

Instead of answering, Stiles shoveled mac-n-cheese into his mouth. He barely paused to chew, let alone enjoy it.

“Slow down before you choke,” David admonished, lightly. Cutting his chicken, he tried to think of what he wanted to say. “You know, I like Derek, right?”

“Um… what?”

“He’s a good man… werewolf. Whatever, you know what I mean. He’s a good man, good for you.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Stiles looked a little like a deer caught in headlights, eyes wide open and slack jawed.

“Look, son. I will love you no matter what. I know I brushed you off that time in front of the Jungle, but guys, girls, it doesn’t matter to me as long as you’re happy and safe. You’re an adult now. The world is at your feet. You have so much potential and I don’t want to see you waste it, any of it.”

“Okay…”

David could practically see the wheels in Stiles’ head spinning as he took in his father’s words. “You have to respect that Derek may not want the same things as you. He’s older, his job is important to him, and he’s been hurt.”

“I would never hurt Derek!” Stiles burst in causing David to smile.

“I’m not saying you would. You two are close. Good friends… If you aren’t always friends, I will support you. But you need to be smart about it. He is still your teacher.”

“I think the cheese is going to your brain…” Stiles stared at his plate and didn’t meet his father’s eye. “There’s nothing going on between Derek and me.”

“Ok, son.” David got up from the table and kissed the top of Stiles’ head. Putting his empty plate in the sink, he said. “Let’s keep it that way until graduation, huh? On the curfew front, as long as I am kept in the loop as to where you are and whom you’re with, I suppose we can get rid of it on the weekend, at least for a trial period. And don’t worry about the dishes. I’ll do them later.” Then he walked out of the kitchen to let Stiles think about their conversation.

\--tw--

“I’d like to thank everyone for coming out tonight. It’s wonderful to see so many of you here for the auction.” Principal Beck stood up on the student made stage in the center of the cafeteria. Behind him, some leftover snowflakes and snowmen hung from the ceiling. They’d not all been taken down after Christmas holiday. “We’re here tonight, not just to raise money for the senior class’ prom, but to encourage all students to have stronger relationships with the teachers here at BH High School and to further everyone’s education.” Most of the parents and students in the audience clapped while the teachers looked embarrassed at the prospect of being ‘bought.’

At the side of the cafeteria, sitting next to Scott, Stiles let out a long whistle and clapped his hands on his thighs. Knocking at his friend, Scott said, “Knock it off.”

“Sorry if my whistling is hurting your sensitive werewolf ears.” Scott rolled his eyes and punched Stiles in the arm again. “Hey, no damaging the goods,” Stiles yelped, holding his ‘injury’ close.

“You’re not up on the stage,” Lydia cut in, popping up out of nowhere. Stiles hadn’t thought she was going to come to the event at all, but surprise, surprise. She looked impeccable, as always, not a strawberry-blond hair out of place. “And even if you were, I don’t think you’d go for much.”

Stiles stuck his tongue out at her and pulled at the bottom of his flannel button down. He may or may not have puffed his chest out a little. “Please, you know I’d earn enough for our class to have ten proms.”

“I’d only care if you gave me money to get ten dresses.” Lydia sat down on an empty seat and crossed her legs. “Oh look,” she commented, looking across the cafeteria. “There are Allison and Isaac.” She waved at them and the couple headed over.

Stiles reached out to touch Scott’s arm, pushing him towards them. Things had gone well for Scott, Allison, and Isaac over the summer. After Peter’s demise, they’d spent even more time together, learning how to be together. Unfortunately, it sometimes meant that Stiles was a fourth wheel or not invited in the first place. But Stiles understood, respected them even. Scott was just trying to navigate his way to his soul mate. “Hey guys,” he greeted when Allison and Isaac sat down with them. Scott leaned over to kiss both Allison and Isaac on the cheek.

“Hey.” Allison grinned at Scott and then at everyone else before looking over at the stage where Mr. McKamp, who taught biology, was up for auction. “We looking to get anyone specific tonight?” she teased.

“Not me,” Lydia said, tilting her head to the side. “My grades are impeccable. But Stiles here could use some help. You know, it’s no fun being Valedictorian without some competition.”

Narrowing his eyes, Stiles frowned at the red head. “Valedictorian hasn’t been announced yet. It could just as easily be me.”

“Keep telling yourself that, sweetie.”

“You think anyone’s gonna put money up for Coach?” Isaac asked, looking to where Finstock was waiting for his turn. As McKamp finished up and went to sit next to a sophomore girl in the audience, Coach got up to stand front and center.

“I wouldn’t put pay to get yelled at by him for anything,” Scott said and Isaac and Stiles nodded in agreement. “We get enough of him at practice.”

“Yeah, thank goodness we took economics last year.”

“And you’re all already first string.” Allison leaned her head against Scott’s arm while holding Isaac’s hand on her lap. “If you weren’t, you could buy him and get your shot at a game.”

“Ah man.” Stiles knocked Scott’s shoulder with his own. “They should have had this when we joined the team. We could have gotten to be more than bench warmers ages ago.”

“Yeah, my asthma really would have appreciated that,” Scott laughed.

Uncrossing her legs, Lydia stood up. Wrapping her arm around Stiles’, she started to pull him from their friends. “Be a dear and come with me while I get a Diet Coke.”

“Uh… sure?” Stiles let himself be led away. There was no fighting Lydia Martin.

Once they were on the other side of the cafeteria, Lydia let go of Stiles to look him square in the eye. “Tell me you don’t have a shot at taking Valedictorian from me and I’ll give you all the money you need.” There was no need to question what Lydia meant.

Pursing his lips and clenching his fists, Stiles took a deep breath in through his nose. Then low, under his breath, he admitted, “I don’t have a chance at being Valedictorian. You are the smartest person here, not just in our year, but the entire school. Everyone knows you’re going to one day take over the world.”

Lydia pat Stiles on the cheek. “There, was that hard?” she asked as she opened her wallet and pulled out several bills. “If you need more, don’t worry about it. I wonder how many girls will fight for him. You know he’s quite the talk of the girl’s bathroom. So many little girls have crushes on him.”

“Great,” Stiles mumbled, briefly looking at the stage where Mr. Hale was sitting, still waiting for his turn. He shoved the money Lydia gave him into his back pocket. He’d brought his own money, but it was nice to be extra prepared.

Stiles hadn’t admitted it to anyone, but he missed spending time with Derek. Without something evil hanging overhead, official pack meetings had been scarce. And Stiles had never asked Derek about joining him and his father over Thanksgiving or Christmas, even though David had told him to. He regretted it, but, at the same time, Stiles knew he’d done the right thing. David had been right, when they’d had their talk after his birthday; Derek really loved his job. He didn’t want to do anything that could hurt that for him. That was why Stiles was so eager to ‘buy’ him at the auction. Then they could spend time together and no one could call them on it. It was a fundraiser after all.

“I’m serious, Stiles. If the freshmen give you a run, all you need to do is ask. We’re all willing to help you.”

Stiles nodded. He believed her and knew if he asked Scott for help, then the funds would be there. He and Scott had yet to discuss what was going on, or since senior year started, not going on, with Derek. But Stiles knew Scott knew and still loved him anyway. That was the best part of being best friends. They didn’t always have to talk to have each other’s backs. 

When Lydia’s drink fell to the bottom the vending machine, Stiles bent to pick it up for her. “Thanks.” He gave her a sincere smile and jerked his head back towards their friends. “Let’s head back.”

“Alright. Thank you, Mr. Jones. I’m sure Coach Finstock is looking forward to getting you ready for lacrosse,” Principal Beck said over a sprinkling of applause as Finstock jumped off the stage. A freshman boy that Stiles recognized from lacrosse tryouts was grinning from his seat, his mother right behind him. Finstock seemed about as happy as when Greenberg raised his hand in class, which was not very much. “Next, we have one of our newer teachers. Please stand up, Mr. Hale.” In the audience several girls clapped wildly as did a few of the moms.

“Mr. Hale here,” Principal Beck continued, “Teaches world history and American history. He is also the assistant coach for the boys’ basketball team. So, he is a great asset for someone struggling with class or their skills on the court. We will start the bidding at ten dollars.”

Immediately Stiles’ hand went into the air. Principal Beck pointed to him before a girl on the other side of the room called out, “Twenty dollars.”

“Twenty five,” another girl, with a flower headband, shouted as Stiles yelled, “Thirty.”

It went back and forth for several minutes as each girl and Stiles tried to out do the other. A few other students tried their hand at bidding but at smaller increases like one or two dollars. The trio sailed past seventy dollars and then past one hundred. They were closing in on two hundred when the first girl dropped out. “Son of a-“ the girl said, a little loud even amongst the crowd, and blushed when she realized everyone had turned to look at her.

“Two hundred,” the girl with the flower headband announced, proving she was still in the running.

Looking down at the money he’d brought, Stiles knew he didn’t have enough. He gave Lydia a smile and mouthed ‘thank you’ as he pulled the money she’d given him out of his pocket. “Two twenty.”

“Two fifty.”

Stiles jerked his head to look at the girl. That was a large increase. He didn’t know the girl, so she couldn’t be in his year. That strengthened his resolve to win. No way was he going to lose to an underclassman.

From the stage, Principal Beck looked surprised at the money being thrown at one of his teachers. It was more than any of the previous staff had gone for. Derek, meanwhile, just stared at the floor, waiting for things to be over.

Scott clapped Stiles on the back when Stiles was quiet for too long. “Three hundred,” he croaked, crinkling the bills in his hand.

“Three hundred going once,” Principal Beck said to the audience when the girl pouted and sat down. Stiles could see her looking to her friends for more money but couldn’t tell if anyone was giving her some.

“Three hundred going twice.”

Stiles held his breath. Three hundred dollars was a lot of money. She couldn’t outbid him. She couldn’t-

“Nice job, buddy!” Scott cheered, hugging Stiles from behind with one arm. Wide eyed, Stiles turned to look at his best friend who gave him a thumbs up with his free hand. “You won!”

Slowly turning his head, Stiles saw how furious the girl with the headband looked. She glared at him, at her friends, and then back at him before crossing her arms over her chest and storming out of the cafeteria.

“Jeez, what a sore loser,” Isaac commented as the cafeteria doors swung closed.

“Mr. Stilinski, if you’ll come up with your money.” Principle Beck waved a hand at Stiles, beckoning him forward. Awkwardly, Stiles headed towards the stage. Mr. Hale had gotten down and was waiting for him.

Handing the money over to the class treasurer, Stiles grinned at Derek. “Guess you’re all mine now,” he teased.

“Oh, how will I ever survive,” Derek deadpanned back.

\--tw--

Buying Mr. Hale at the teacher’s auction was a blessing and a curse. Derek insisted he and Stiles spend time after school, in the cafeteria, going over notes and doing homework. It was like all the times Stiles had popped over to the loft except they were at school and unable to really relax. Where in the past they had been able to tease each other and talk about anything, at school they had to censor themselves and be mindful of everything they did. Stiles was even nervous if he thought that he sat too close to Derek. They had six after school meetings per the arrangement from the teacher’s auction, but continued to see each other once or twice a week after that.

 

“How’d you do on your math exam?” Derek asked as he pulled his chair out so he could sit.

“Fine, fine.” Stiles waved him off as he pulled some books out of his backpack. “I had the second highest score after Lydia, as usual. And she only corrected Mrs. Dean once which means there were no tears.”

Derek snorted and rolled his eyes. He was lucky Lydia wasn’t in any of his classes this year. He didn’t look back at getting corrected fondly, but at least she did it to all her teachers and not just him.

“So… uh-“ Stiles looked nervous. He looked down at the book in his hands and Derek noticed they were shaking.

“Spit it out, Mr. Stilinski.” Derek hated the formality they had to have at school but never let himself slip. Stiles was always Mr. Stilinski at school, same as all the other students who were Mr. or Miss something. He couldn’t single Stiles out, couldn’t favor him in anyway.

“I’m sure you know what today is…” Stiles put the book on the table and slid it towards Derek. “I uh- thought you might like this.”

Looking down, Derek saw the book was on myths and Gods of ancient Egypt. He had several books on mythology of different counties back at the loft. It was a part of history that always interested Derek and part of his master’s degree had been in mythology. Stiles must have noticed his collection one of the numerous times he’d visited.

“What’s today,” Derek asked as he picked up the book and opened the cover. Inside were several dried, purple and pink pentas, the Egyptian starflower. Underneath the flowers in neat script, neater than anything Stiles had ever written before, were the words, ‘be my valentine?’

Valentine’s Day.

With a loud screech, Derek pushed his chair back from the table. Mentally berating himself for planning a study session with Stiles on that particular day, he stood up. How had he been so stupid? He’d seen couples acting extra close all day but hadn’t really put two and two together. Shaking his head, Derek stepped back and muttered, “I have to go. I’ll… I’ll see you in class, Mr. Stilinski.”

Once he safely in his car, Derek stared at the book in his lap. He hadn’t even realized he’d taken it with him until he tried to buckle his seatbelt but had a hand occupied. The words Stiles had written stared up at him, mocking him. With gentle fingers, Derek touched the dried flowers; they were beautiful.

Closing the book, Derek leaned his head against his steering wheel. Stiles was going to hate him for running away like he had. But maybe it was better that way, for both of them… wasn’t it?

\--tw--  
Stiles had thought the gym looked lovely his sophomore year when he’d taken Lydia to the winter formal. Junior prom had also been beautiful, also in the gym. But neither dance held a candle to prom. With the money the students had raised and some donations by the parents and PTA, the senior class budget had been huge and they’d gone all out. Beacon Hills High booked the fanciest catering hall for miles before any of the other high schools got the chance. The lights and streamers made the hall look like another world, one with soft pink and purple hues and tea lights guiding the way.

“Hey... you look nice.”

“Aw, thanks, Mr. Hale. So do you.” And Stiles meant it. Derek had cleaned up well, in a charcoal suit with a black button down shirt and maroon tie. He’d shaved for the event so he looked a lot younger than his 25 years. In fact, Stiles bet that, if Derek tried to buy alcohol right then, he’d get carded for his baby face. Giving his teacher a tight smile, Stiles turned to follow his classmates into the main hall. He could hear music blasting and people talking and laughing. Stiles was going to enjoy prom if it killed him.

“Mr. Stilinski,” Derek called, but Stiles didn’t even pause.

Since Valentine’s Day, the two had been walking on eggshells around each other. School was almost unbearable because, outside of class, Derek seemed to be everywhere. Stiles saw him in the halls, in the gym talking to the basketball team, and they’d run into each other a couple times at the grocery store and gas station. In class, Stiles went back to his seat next to Scott. Derek didn’t try to switch him with Greenberg again, even though he’d assigned desks at the beginning of the school year.

Derek also didn’t joined David and Stiles for dinner even though he was asked a couple times by the Sheriff. Stiles felt a little bad that the dinners didn’t continue; his dad seemed disappointed when Derek shrugged off the invitations with an excuse. He figured, if Derek did come by, he could just duck out and go to Scott’s or eat in his room. David and Derek got along; Stiles didn’t want that to end just because he and Derek couldn’t be around each other.

“Stiles, stop,” Derek tried again. This time, Stiles paused and slowly turned around. Derek hadn’t used his name in ages.

Smirk on his face, Stiles went for his usual sarcastic tone. “Did you need something, Mr. Hale?”

Derek looked down at his hands. He deserved Stiles’ tone, but he had to try. “Can we please talk?”

Stiles looked around the entrance where other students were still entering in, as couples or small groups of friends. He had just arrived a few minutes earlier. Scott with Allison and Isaac, Danny with Ethan, and Lydia and Jackson were already inside. (Stiles didn’t know who Aiden came with, and didn’t really care. With Jackson back, he and Lydia had split up. To be honest, Stiles was relieved to not see Aiden as much; they never really got along.) The group had gotten a limousine, at Lydia insistence, and had booked it for the whole night, on Jackson’s credit card. (Well, Jackson’s parents’ credit card.)

“I’m not sure we have anything to talk about.” Mindful of people entering, Stiles moved to the side of the corridor. Derek followed him even though Stiles made no motion for him to. “You’re my teacher and I respect that. Besides, it wouldn’t be the first time I… I thought there was something there, to be embarrassingly mistaken.” Stiles paused to take a long breath. “So, if you don’t mind, I’m going to go enjoy prom with my friends. It’s what normal high school students, who have no idea about the things that go bump in the night, get to do. And tonight I am one of those students.” Stiles gave Derek a mock salute and walked away.

Once he was inside the hall, Lydia latched onto his arm and smacked the back of his head. “You’re a dumbass.”

“Please,” Stiles muttered. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

“The school year is over. We’re at prom and graduation is in two days. If he wants to talk, if Derek Hale wants to talk, then you need to listen.”

“Let it go, Lydia… there’s nothing going on between Derek and me. There’s nothing to talk about.”

Lydia hit Stiles again and Stiles winced and pouted. She shook her head at him and repeated, “You’re a dumbass.” Then she let him go, joining Jackson by their table.

 

Derek tried not to watch Stiles having fun with his friends, really he did. After all, he was a chaperone and supposed to be watching over all of the graduating class, not just one student. But it was difficult, not only because he desperately wanted to talk to Stiles, clear the air, but also because Stiles looked so good in his navy suit and white button down. Derek even liked the bowtie Stiles was sporting, even though it didn’t really match his outfit and had little wolves printed on it.

Standing off to the side of the hall, Derek swiped a couple crab cakes from the catering staff that walked by. The food was pretty good and he was looking for another person with a tray to come by when Lydia appeared in front of him.

She tilted her head to the side and had one hand on her hip when she questioned, “You do know there is a lovely garden out back with a gazebo in it. It’s stunning really. They have lights up all over the place and soft music playing in the background.”

“You’re telling me this, why?”

“Because I may or may not have Jackson out there, making sure it’s clear. And I may or may not ensure that Stiles is out there, all alone, in let’s say, 10 minutes.”

Derek straightened under Lydia’s stare. “Why would you help me?”

“I may not be a wolf, but I am part of the pack. We look out for each other. And I love him, that’s why.” Lydia gave Derek a smile. It was the warmest one he’d ever received from her. “The jackass wormed his way into my heart.” She shrugged. “So, you better not screw this up worse than it already is because I will hurt you.”

Hesitantly, Derek reached out and touched her arm. “I won’t.”

“The boys and I will make sure you’re not disturbed. Now go,” she instructed and Derek was quick to listen.

Heading through the hall, Derek headed for the doors that led outside. Once he was out in the garden, he took a quick second to enjoy the cooler air. It was hot inside with everyone dancing. He spotted Jackson underneath the aforementioned gazebo and strode over.

“You better not fuck this up,” Jackson said when Derek was closer. Jackson stepped forward until he and Derek were next to each other. Not turning to look at his once Alpha, he continued, “Stiles is- ah, screw this. Lydia said I had to say something nice about Stilinski and I can’t. It’s Stilinski… But, Lydia has been telling me for ages how the two of you are good for each other. And I guess I see it – the way you look at him when he’s distracted. He does the same to you.” Jackson reached up to run a hand through his hair. “Look, I don’t deserve Lydia… she and I both know it. And you don’t deserve Stiles.” Derek nodded once; Jackson had a point. “So, don’t fuck this up. Because Stiles and Lydia, in her own way, they both love with everything they’ve got. And really, I can’t say anymore.” He turned to quickly grimace at Derek. “It’s Stilinski…” Then Jackson walked off towards the doors back into the hall to make sure no one other than Stiles went outside.

When Stiles did come out, nine minutes and thirteen seconds later, (Derek knew because he’d been staring at his phone since Jackson had left him), Derek had to wipe his hands on his pant legs because his hands were so sweaty. He started to take a step forward when Stiles spotted him and made to turn around. But, before Stiles could escape back inside, Scott appeared and wordlessly pushed his best friend back towards the gazebo.

Derek had tried to prepare for this. He’d agonized for ages over how he was going to apologize. But all his prep work rushed out of his head and he blurted out, “The answer is yes.”

“That’s nice,” Stiles grumbled. “But what’s the question?”

“Yes, I’ll be your valentine.”

Furrowing his eyebrows, Stiles twisted so he could look around the garden. When he focused on Derek again, he asked, “Are you for real? I asked you that months ago. And like I said, I get it. You’re my teach-“

“No, I’m not. Not anymore, not really. Classes are over, finals are over, and grades are in. Graduation is in two days… I’m not your teacher anymore.”

Stiles crossed his arms over his chest. Almost spitting in anger, he yelled, “You stormed out of the cafeteria! You left me there after I thought- I cared about you, you jackass. I was there when you nearly drowned. We survived the Alpha pack. I was there for your uncle, twice!” Stiles held up two fingers before re-crossing his arms. “And then you left me, in the cafeteria! You don’t get to just say yes and think that I’ll forgive you… It doesn’t work that way, Derek.”

“I know; you’re right. I messed up, just like I mess everything up.”

“Dude.” Stiles sagged a little. “You don’t mess everything up. Not everything is your fault. This, this is your fault… but not everything, sourwolf.”

“You know I don’t like that nickname.”

“Yeah, well. I don’t like being abandoned by the guy I like and then basically ignored for four months. Can’t win ‘em all, can you?”

“Can you stop being a sarcastic little shit for one second?”

“This is an epic apology. I love it. As I’ve said before, sarcasm is my only defense.”

“We both know that’s not true…” Derek sighed, getting off his point. Trying again, he said, “I love when you’re not on the defense with me. I love when we talk at my loft and it’s easy. You always tell me how terrible I am with words… but sometimes I feel like I don’t have to talk when you’re there. It’s like you just know what I’m thinking, what I want.” Derek walked towards Stiles and tried not to smile when the younger man didn’t back away. “I know I hurt you and I am sorry. I put my job first and-”

“Which I understand,” Stiles cut in. “I never wanted you to get in trouble.”

“I reacted poorly… but only because I wanted to kiss you right then and there. And I couldn’t risk it- not after everything, not when it seemed like life was on track again.” Derek reached out to take Stiles’ hand in his. “But it doesn’t mean anything, when you and I aren’t speaking to each other… You make me happy; happier than I’ve been in such a long time. Please, Stiles…”

“Dude…” Stiles let out a groan. “I want to hate you, be angry with you. You hurt me… But I do understand.” He squeezed Derek’s hand. “And- I never stopped caring about you.”

He knew it was cheesy, but Derek had to ask, “Will you be my valentine?” Stiles rolled his eyes but nodded. “Will you dance with me?”

Stiles nodded again before asking, “Who’s going to lead?” Derek raised an eyebrow at the question and Stiles shrugged. “Stupid question, you will, of course.”

“Do you want to lead, Stiles?” Derek asked, shaking his head in amusement.

“Well, not this very moment, but yeah sometime I would like to.”

“Will the two of you shut the hell up and kiss already!” Jackson yelled from where he was still guarding the doors.

Stiles straightened and raised a hand to give Jackson the finger. Unsure if Jackson could see him, he also said, “Screw you, dickface. Stop listening in to conversations you have no place in. If you don’t, I’ll tell Lydia on you.”

“Please, like she’s not here listening in too, to make sure this doesn’t ruin her prom.”

“Just kiss already!” Lydia called out, confirming what Jackson said to be true.

Moving in to wrap his arms around Derek’s neck, the couple swayed to the soft music being played. “Should we listen to them?” Stiles asked after the song changed to another gentle melody.

“Probably. Not going to lie, but Lydia scares me a little.”

“Oh me too,” Stiles agreed before pressing his lips to Derek’s.

\--tw--

“Do you think destiny, or god, or whatever the grand design is, made a mistake with us?”

“What do you mean?” Stiles asked, entwining his fingers with Derek’s. They were in Derek’s loft, warm and comfortable in bed. (Stiles had told his dad he was spending the night at Derek’s per their curfew arrangement. The Sheriff wasn’t happy with his son already spending the night at Derek’s when their relationship was only about a month old. But he knew Derek, trusted him. And he was happy Stiles was smiling again, so he allowed it.)

“I mean, we both got screwed over with the whole soul mate thing. You lost yours and mine was a psychopath. We got screwed, but-”

“But we found each other?”

“Yeah,” Derek agreed, squeezing Stiles’ hand. “People go their whole lives searching for a name. We have ideas, images, in our heads of how life is going to be with that special person. Even if you grow up with your soul mate, know them your entire life, you still have expectations. They’re supposed to love you unconditionally… but really who can do that?”

Stiles nodded; he agreed with what Derek was trying to say. He thought of Lydia who loved Jackson no matter what, who loved him to the point she saved him from himself, but had still let him go to London. Jackson was a jackass who didn’t deserve her, but he was the same guy who flew in, in time for prom and graduation, skipping his own to be with his soul mate. They’d both been forgiving of each other’s dalliances, Lydia with Aiden and Jackson with who the hell knew? And maybe they were better for each other after their time apart? Everyone would know soon enough. Jackson had been accepted to the same university as Lydia, so they could have a fresh start in a new city.

Derek sighed, trying to organize his thoughts. “No one can love unconditionally; we’re not built like that. There’s going to be something that bothers you, that you just can’t stand. Maybe it’s how that special someone leaves their clothes everywhere and doesn’t tell you when you’re out of milk or shampoo… Or maybe that person is just too different, like a werewolf and a hunter. Or maybe that person also loves someone else and, even though you keep circling around each other, there’s this question of what’s good enough. Is it enough to be friends with your soul mate when they love someone else? Is it enough to love them and hope they’ll come back to you? Or do you find a way to accept that third person?”

“How did we get onto Scott and Allison and their fun times, or whatever it is they’re doing with Isaac?” Stiles made a face. He loved his friends but didn’t really want to think about them together.

“They’re soul mates, Scott and Allison, but is that enough?”

“If it works for them, if they’re happy with Isaac, then yes it is.”

“And ten years from now-“

“Why are you worrying about them? We are not them.”

“But we’re not soul mates either.”

“No…” Stiles slowly agreed. “We’re not. But we made our choices and developed something unique in a world that seems predetermined. And right now, right now, I’m happy. I have my sexy werewolf boyfriend who accepts me and my darkness. We kicked Peter’s ass all the way back to the grave he crawled out of. We actually made it to and passed graduation! Not gonna lie, it seemed touch and go for a while. And no one knows what’s going to happen tomorrow or ten years from now.”

Tugging at Derek’s hand, Stiles brought it up to his mouth to give it a gentle kiss. “Maybe you’re right, destiny or whatever screwed us over. But you know what, I think they realized their mistake and you’re my ‘I’m so sorry’ gift, like when the barista at the coffee house screws up your drink and gives you another one for free. You’re the best consolation prize I’ve ever gotten.”

\--tw--

When Stiles first showed his acceptance letter to Derek at one of their study sessions in January, the older man had been thrilled. He’d gotten early acceptance to Berkeley. Considering everything Stiles had been through, his letter was quite the accomplishment and Stiles showed to every teacher he could, even some he’d never had for class. But, as the summer wore on, a knot grew tighter and tighter in Derek’s stomach. How could his and Stiles’ budding relationship survive four years apart? He still wasn’t sure how he hadn’t ruined everything during the school year. The only relief was he knew how stubborn Stiles could be.

“Will you please stop brooding over there? I know it’s your favorite pastime, but it’s getting on my nerves.” Stiles looked up from the plastic bin he was packing and threw a ball of socks at Derek’s head. Derek caught them easily and tossed them back. Realizing it was going to take more than a sock to the head to get Derek out of his funk, Stiles got up from his packing and walked over to his bed where his boyfriend was sitting.

Leaning his arms on Derek’s shoulders, Stiles leaned in for a quick kiss. “Relax, please. I’m nervous enough without your freaking out. In one more week, I’m going to be a freshman… I’m going to Berkley, not the other side of the world.”

Derek leaned forward until his head rested on Stiles’ chest. “I’m proud of you, you know?”

“I’m sure the floor appreciates your praise,” Stiles teased as he lifted Derek’s head back up. “We’re going to be fine. I promise.”

“You can’t promise that.”

“Yes, I can. Your name might not be on my chest, but it should be. Don’t say I’m too young to know, because you’re it for me. I’m serious Derek. We may not be at ‘I love you’s’ just yet, but I care about you… so much. We have survived more crap than most people have in a lifetime. If we can get through that, then this, us, it’ll be a piece of cake. And I know, you’re my future. You’re my everything.”

One of the things Derek loved most about Stiles was his capacity to love, but he was still stunned by the declaration. When he didn’t respond right away, Stiles said, “You don’t have to admit you feel the same way.” He ran his fingers through Derek’s hair. “The fact that you’re here helping me pack shows you do. The fact that you let me be the big spoon last night and that you helped my dad with his car and you help me make sure he eats his veggies and-“ Derek leaned up to kiss Stiles, cutting off his rambling. Stiles smiled into the kiss and mumbled against Derek’s lips, “Those are all ways you tell me I’m your future too.”

\--tw--

Stiles loved college. He loved everything about it, even 8am classes and twenty page term papers. He loved his shitty freshman dorm room and his slightly less shitty sophomore room. (He didn’t really care for his roommate his first year but made some decent friends who he lived with after that.) He really loved his apartment junior year and that he was old enough to buy booze and host parties without fear that campus security was going to come and take his scholarship away. Parties were the best part of college, even if he did wake up with a hangover.

Stiles let out a small yelp when something wet and cold touched his back. He squirmed under his blankets and tried to burrow his head under his pillow. Moving one arm up, he realized part of the bed was cool and cracked open an eye. “How long have you been up?” he croaked, throat dry and hoarse.

“Only about an hour,” Derek replied with a grin. In his hand was a half empty glass. “I brought you some water.”

Reaching up to take it, Stiles tried to smile. “I knew I loved you for a reason.” He took a long draw from the glass and then let out a relieved sigh. “Damn, that’s good water.”

“And I knew the Britta I got you would come in handy.”

Stiles huffed in amusement and downed the rest of the water. “So…” Stiles started, not really wanting an answer. “What’s the damage?”

Derek had come up to help Stiles celebrate acing all his midterms. In reality, Stiles just wanted to party, but getting A’s on all his exams/papers had seemed like a good enough theme. He’d invited all of his ‘closest friends’ and called Scott the morning of the party. He knew nothing would stop his best friend from making the hour about drive from UC Davis. And he’d given Derek enough warning to make sure he could come up for the weekend. What Stiles hadn’t expected was for Derek to use a couple of his sick days and drive up on Wednesday, so they could have four nights together. (Derek, with his werewolf immune system, never got sick. So, the school had no problem finding him a substitute when he called out.)

“We’re gonna spend the whole day cleaning,” Derek said with a frown.

“Oh, man. That sucks giant donkey balls!” Stiles dramatically flailed on his bed and threw an arm over his eyes. “I had such plans for us. We were gonna go get some breakfast and then spend the rest of the day in bed.” Lifting his arm slightly, he waggled his eyebrows at Derek.

“Well maybe if you actually get out of bed sometime before noon. We can clean a bit, go for brunch, and then spend the rest of afternoon in bed.”

“Except for the actual cleaning part, I like the way you think.” Stiles held a hand out for Derek, who rolled his eyes, but still pulled his boyfriend out from under his numerous blankets. “Hey.” Stiles searched for a shirt to put on. “If you’ve been up for an hour… any chance you may have started the cleaning?” He pouted at Derek and batted his eyes.

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Bah! I take it back. I hate you; we’re breaking up.” Obviously not meaning any of his words, Stiles wrapped an arm around Derek’s neck and kissed him soundly on the mouth.

“Mmm,” Derek groaned when Stiles let him go. “Morning breath. Thanks for that.”

Walking out of his room, Stiles raised his arm over his head and gave Derek the finger. “Such a bitchy wolf in the morning.”

“Who’s a what?” Scott mumbled from the couch. Empty beer cans surrounded him and someone had written jerk on his forehead. Ok, not someone, Stiles. He was lucky his friend was a pretty heavy sleeper.

Ruining Stiles’ fun, Derek pointed to his own forehead and said, “Scott, you have a little something.” Stiles elbowed Derek in the side and then yelped in pain when it was like hitting a wall.

“Damn your abs, Derek Hale. And your mouth.”

Smirking, Derek crossed his arms over his chest. “That’s not what you said last night.”

“Oh god, you two are gross!” Scott cried from the couch, rubbing furiously at his forehead. “And you’re a dick, Stiles. Why the hell are we friends?”

“I’ve been asking myself that for years. Where are Ian and Jonny? If they’re here, they should help clean up.”

“I’m pretty sure they left a while ago.” Scott got up from the couch and stretched. “They may have said something about it being your party, so your mess.”

Stiles groaned and banged his head on the closest wall. “I live with jerks! I should have written that on their heads, not yours.”

Walking to his friend, Scott punched Stiles on the arm. “Stop writing shit on me!” He shook his head before wrapping an arm around Stiles’ shoulder. Then he led Stiles towards the front door. “But you’re lucky I have an amazing girlfriend and boyfriend.” There was a loud knock and Scott opened the door to let Isaac and Allison inside.

“We brought food,” Allison sang as she walked inside, carrying several plastic bags filled with carry out containers. When she passed Stiles, she leaned over to kiss his cheek. “Sorry we couldn’t make it last night. But it was our date night.” She shot a wink at Isaac. “So, went for margaritas and salsa dancing. Isaac’s getting really good.”

“Is that so?” Scott asked as he took some bags from Isaac. He leaned in to give his boyfriend a quick peck. “Then maybe we’ll have to try that sometime.”

“Just the two of us? Or next weekend when it’s the three of us?” Isaac questioned and he walked into the tiny kitchen that Stiles’ apartment had. As they opened some of the boxes, the smell of pancakes and sausages and bacon filled the air. “Hope you’re all hungry.”

“Oh goodness, yes!” Stiles exclaimed, grabbing a container of pancakes for himself. “Have I mentioned how much I love the two of you? Forget Scott, the two of you with me, forever.” Turning to shove a bite of pancake in Derek’s mouth, Stiles added, “And Derek of course. We can be a nice little foursome.”

Allison snorted while grabbing some food. Ignoring Stiles’ comment, Scott and Isaac took another container and started to share.

“As for date night, whatever you want,” Scott said to Isaac as he bit into a piece of bacon. Isaac beamed at him in return.

Digging into the food, Isaac responded with, “Great. There’s this awesome new bar by my school. Their Mexican food is to die for and we can get our Latin groove on afterward.”

“Please tell me.” Stiles turned to look at Derek. “We’re not so nauseating… are we?”

“Please,” Allison said with another snort. “You two are way worse.”

Wide eyed, Stiles looked at his boyfriend for confirmation, but Derek only shrugged. “You have a problem with that?” he asked.

“Nope, no way.” Stiles lifted another piece of pancake up for Derek to eat but at the last second diverted it to his own mouth.

Frowning, Derek grabbed Stiles’ hand and brought it up to his mouth. “You have a little syrup…” he said before engulfing two of Stiles’ fingers in his mouth.

“See!” Scott exclaimed. “You two are way worse!”

With his fingers still captured, Stiles winked at Derek. Then, with his free hand, he grabbed another syrup packet off the counter. “I may be sticky other places… we should probably go into my room to check that out.”

“Jeez, what a line…” Issac chuckled.

“Yeah right.” Allison went back into the living room to sit on the couch. She was mindful of the cans that still hadn’t been cleaned up. “Like you didn’t say something similar to Scott when you suddenly had four bottle of chocolate sauce in your fridge.” She crossed her legs and waved goodbye to Stiles and Derek. “You two go have fun. Don’t be too loud. And no, we’re not cleaning a thing until you’re back. We may have brought food, but we are not your maids.”

“Love you too, Allison,” Stiles called over his shoulder just before he slammed his bedroom door shut.

\--tw--

“Are you sure you want to do this? Tattoos are permanent and you’re squeamish around needles.”

“Bah!” Stiles waved off Derek’s concern. “I’ll be fine and you know why?”

Raising an eyebrow, Derek gave in and asked, “Why?”

“Three things.” Stiles held up his pointer finger. “One, I took two shots of tequila before getting in the car with you.” Derek shook his head and rolled his eyes. “Good thing you drove. Two.” Up went Stiles’ middle finger. “I am going to have a blindfold.” He pulled a long black cloth out of his back pocket and dangled it in front of Derek. “I figure if I can’t see the needles, then I’ll be fine. And three.” Stiles stuck out his thumb. “I’m gonna have my hunky werewolf fiancé leeching some of the pain away. But not too much,” Stiles declared. “You know I don’t want you to hurt, but just enough to take the edge off and keep me from possibly getting sick or something. Do you think you can handle that, Mr. Hale?”

Amused, Derek nodded. “Yes, I think I can handle that. But should you get sick at any point and get anything on my shoes or clothes, then you’re sleeping on the couch for the next week.”

“And.” Stiles hiccupped and then laughed at himself. “If I don’t get sick, then what?”

“Then you get to sleep in bed with me and maybe, if you’re really lucky, I’ll do that thing I know you like.”

“Oh, the thing!” Stiles’ eyes went wide as he took in a deep breath, clapping his hands together. “You only do the thing on my birthday and holidays…”

“Yeah well, this week has Arbor Day, so I figured why not? It’s a holiday, right?”

“It is! Oh it is!” Stiles threw a fist into the air cheering. “I’m gonna have to plant so many trees.” He waggled his eyebrows at Derek. “The thing!”

“First, let’s just get through your tattoo. Then we can figure out how we’re spending the night.”

“Alright.” Stiles jumped in place, shrugging his shoulders again and again, breathing loudly, like a pregnant woman about to give birth. “I’m ready, let’s do this!”

 

“It looks good, right? Your name on my chest looks good?”

Leaning over his human fiancé, Derek traced his fingers over the abused skin. Derek was written in blue ink, the same color that matched Derek’s eyes. Pretending he was wearing contacts, Derek had shown his eyes to the tattoo artist to make sure the color was perfect. On both sides of his name was a triskelion in Alpha red. Gently, Derek kissed the tattoo and then he smiled up at Stiles.

“It’s beautiful, perfect.”

“Please don’t make me be there when Scott burns my name into your skin. Remember how I reacted to Scott’s stupid bands around his arm?”

Resting his head against Stiles’ chest, Derek laughed. “Yeah, I do,” he mumbled into Stiles’ skin.

“Please,” Stiles’ begged again, his voice getting a little high. “My being blindfolded and drunk isn’t going to help me help you.”

\--tw--

“Derek!” Stiles yelled from the bathroom. “Derek, I know you can hear me! Get in here now!” Stiles demanded. When he didn’t hear footsteps climbing the stairs or rushing down the hall, he sighed and grabbed a towel off the hook on the door. “Come here, sweetie,” Stiles cooed at his daughter. “Arms up.” Obediently, Selina reached up to her Papa, happy to be getting out of the bath. Her hatred of baths and pools didn’t make any sense to Stiles, who remembered loving water at her age, even if it was just a small puddle to jump in. “We’re going to go find your Daddy.” With a few bubbles still clinging to her shoulders, Stiles held his little girl close to his body. She let out a happy huff and settled her head on his shoulder, wetting him.

“Derek!” Stiles called again, out of the bathroom and at the top of the stairs.

“Yeah babe?” Derek called back, sounding distracted. He sounded like he was in the kitchen and Stiles swore silently to himself that Derek better be making him a killer snack or else.

“Derek!” Stiles yelled for the third time. This time he was rewarded with the sound of wood scraping against wood as Derek pushed his chair away from the dining room table and got   
up.

“What, Stiles?” Derek put his hands on his hips as he rounded the corner to the main staircase. “I’m grading papers right now.”

“Fine, never mind.” Holding Selina with one hand, Stiles used his other to give Derek the finger. “If you don’t care that our little girl just had a new name appear on her body, right over her heart, then by all means, go back to your papers.”

“What?” Derek asked shocked, his eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline, his hairline that Stiles gleefully pointed out was beginning to gray. Quickly, the werewolf raced up the staircase to take Selina into his arms. “Hey there, baby girl. What’s this I hear about a name?”

“Dada,” Selina squealed, batting her hand against Derek’s nose. Gently, Derek took her hand in-between his lips and pretended to eat her. “No, Dada,” Selina admonished, pulling her hand back. Stiles kissed the top of her head as Derek moved the towel to inspect his daughter’s chest.

Pointing at the small set of script, Stiles grinned and said, “See, right there. Edmund. Jeez… what kind of name is Edmund?” Stiles’ grin was replaced with a look of smelling something bad. “Oh god, he’s gonna be some weird little hipster kid, isn’t he?”

“Stiles-“ Derek trying to interject, but his husband just continued.

“He’s gonna wear stupid glasses and beanies on his head. And he’s gonna drink too much coffee and listen to crap music. Oh god, our little girl-“

Reaching out, Derek gripped Stiles’ shoulder and gave him a firm shake. “It’s going to be fine. Calm down. You know it’s not good for you to riled up. Do you really want Dr. Meckanzi to put you on bed rest again?” Derek moved his hand down until it rested against the heavy swell of Stiles’ stomach.

“No, no. No bed rest for me. I’m calm. I’m cool. Cool as a cucumber to be exact.”

Derek rolled his eyes and said to Selina, “Your Papa’s crazy.” He shifted Selina in his arms and got a fresh whiff of baby shampoo; he loved the smell of baby shampoo.

“I just want her to be with someone who thinks the sun shines out her ass.”

“Considering how many diapers we’ve changed, we both know that’s not the case.”

“Ha ha, Mr. Funny Man. You know what I mean. I want her to be happy.”

“Stiles, she’s not even two. She has her whole life ahead of her to find this Edmund person or someone better. She will be happy.” Derek shifted around his dozing daughter to kiss his husband softly on the mouth. “And this one here.” Derek touched Stiles’ stomach again. “We’ll make sure they’re happy too.”

“I’m so glad you’re my soul mate,” Stiles said, wiping a tear from his eye. Damn pregnancy hormones. He entwined his fingers with Derek’s and led him towards the nursery. It was time all baby wolves went to bed.

Squeezing his husband’s fingers, solemnly Derek agreed, “Me too. Love you.”

**Author's Note:**

> you can follow me on tumblr - http://blumvale.tumblr.com/
> 
>  
> 
> I don't normally ask people to comment or respond to my work. but I worked really hard on this and I would appreciate any feedback you'd be willing to give. kudos are great but some words would be awesome! thanks!!

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [Echoes (A "We’re Linked, You and I" Fanmix)](https://archiveofourown.org/works/1065541) by [OnTheGround2012](https://archiveofourown.org/users/OnTheGround2012/pseuds/OnTheGround2012)




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